By  <Jop/fte 


THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 


Permit  your  slave —  Page  220. 


THE  IMPRUDENCE 
OF  PRUE 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 

HERMAN   PFEIFER 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT  1911 
THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 


PRESS  OF 

BRAUNWORTH  &  CO. 

BOOKBINDERS  AND  PRINTERS 

BROOKLYN,  N.  Y. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  THE  PRICE  OF  A  Kiss i 

II  LADY  DRUMLOCH 7 

III  SIR  GEOFFREY'S  ARRIVAL          ....  17 

IV  THE  MONEY-LENDER  INTERVENES    ...  28 
V  A  WIDOW  ON  MONDAY 41 

VI  A  MATTER  OF  TITLE 50 

VII  A  WEDDING-RING  FOR  A  Kiss                          .  61 

VIII  AN  ORDER  FOR  A  PARSON 69 

IX  THE  WEDDING 78 

X  THE  FOLLY  OF  YESTERDAY        ....  94 

XI  THE  MORROW'S  WAKENING        ....  106 

XII  THE  PRICE  OF  A  BIRTHRIGHT     .       .       .        .122 

XIII  THE  SEALED  PACKET                                 *  136 

XIV  A  PAIR  OF  GLOVES 148 

XV  THE  RED  DOMINO 157 

XVI  AT  THE  UNMASKING 168 

XVII  LADY  BARBARA'S  NEWS 177 

XVIII  THE  DEN  OF  THE  HIGHWAYMAN  ...  190 
XIX  IN  THE  DUCHESS*  APARTMENTS  .  .  .  205 
i  XX  A  THREAT  AND  A  PROMISE  ....  216 

XXI  AN  AFFAIR  OF  FAMILY 236 

XXII   IN  A  CHAIRMAN'S  LIVERY     .        .        .  .    249 

XXIII  THE  PARSON  SELLS  A  SECRET    .       .       .       .263 

XXIV  A  SUPPER  FOR  THREE         .       ,.".  .       .       .285 
XXV  A  CONFESSION 296 

XXVI  PREPARATIONS  FOR  A  JOURNEY  .  .  .  313 
XXVII  A  DIFFERENT  HIGHWAYMAN  ....  328 
XXVIII  THE  DEAREST  TREASURE  .  ,  ...  342 


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THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 


THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF 
PRUE 


CHAPTER  I 

THE    PRICE    OF    A    KISS 


"QTAND  and  deliver!" 


The  words  rang  out  in  the  gathering  dark- 
ness of  the  February  evening.  The  jaded  horses, 
.exhausted  with  dragging  a  cumbrous  chariot 
through  the  miry  lanes  and  rugged  by-roads  of  the 
rough  moorland,  obeyed  the  command  with  prompti- 
tude, disregarding  the  lash  of  the  postboy  and  the 
valiant  oaths  of  a  couple  of  serving-men  in  the 
rumble. 

"  Keep  still,  unless  you  wish  me  to  blow  out  what 
you  are  pleased  to  consider  your  brains,"  said  the 
highwayman.  "  My  pistols  have  an  awkward  habit 
of  going  off  of  their  own  accord  when  I  am  not  in- 
stantly obeyed  —  so  don't  provoke  them." 

The  postilion  became  as  still  as  a  statue  and  the 
footmen,  under  cover  of  the  self-acting  pistols,  de- 
scended, grumbling  but  unresisting,  yielded  up  their 
rusty  blunderbusses  with  a  transparent  show  of 
reluctance  and  withdrew  to  a  respectful  distance, 

I 


2  THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

while  the  highwayman  dismounted,  opened  the  car- 
riage door  and  throwing  the  light  of  a  lantern 
within,  revealed  the  shrinking  forms  of  two  women 
muffled  in  cloaks  and  hoods. 

One  of  them  uttered  a  shriek  of  terror  when  the 
door  was  opened  and  incoherently  besought  the 
highwayman  to  spare  two  lone,  defenseless  women. 

The  highwayman  thrust  his  head  in  and  peered 
round  eagerly,  as  though  in  search  of  other  passen- 
gers. Then,  pulling  off  his  slouch-brimmed  hat,  he 
revealed  a  pair  of  dark  eyes  that  gleamed  fiercely 
from  behind  a  mask,  and  as  much  of  a  bronzed  and 
weather-beaten  face  as  it  left  uncovered.  Black 
hair,  loosely  gathered  in  a  ribbon  and  much  dis- 
ordered by  wind  and  rain,  added  considerably  to  the 
wildness  of  his  aspect,  and  the  uncertain  light  of 
the  lantern  flickered  upon  several  weapons  besides 
the  pistols  he  carried  so  carelessly. 

"  I  shall  not  hurt  you,  Madam,"  he  exclaimed 
impatiently.  "  Your  money  and  jewels  are  all  I 
seek.  I  expected  to  find  a  very  different  booty  here 
and  must  hasten  elsewhere  lest  I  miss  it  altogether 
by  this  confounded  mishap.  So  let  me  advise  you 
to  waste  neither  my  time  nor  your  own  breath  in 
useless  lamentations,  but  hasten  to  hand  out  your 
purses  and  diamonds." 

"  We  have  neither,  Mr.  Highwayman,"  said  the 
other  lady  in  a  clear,  musical  voice,  quite  free  from 
tremor.  "  I  am  a  poor  widow  without  a  penny  in 
the  world,  flying  from  my  creditors  to  take  refuge 
with  a  relative  almost  as  poor  as  myself.  This  is 
my  companion  —  alack  for  her !  The  wage  I  owe 


THE  PRICE  OF  A  KISS  3 

her  might  make  her  passing  rich  if  ever  'twere 
paid  —  but  it  never  will  be." 

"  Do  poor  widows  travel  in  coach  and  four  with 
serving-men  and  maids?"  demanded  the  highway- 
man with  an  incredulous  laugh.  "  Come,  ladies,  I 
am  well  used  to  these  excuses.  Do  not  put  me  to 
the  disagreeable  necessity  of  setting  you  down  in 
the  mud  while  I  search  your  carriage  and  —  may- 
hap —  your  fair  selves." 

The  lady  threw  back  her  hooded  cloak,  revealing 
a  face  and  form  of  rare  beauty,  and  extended  two 
white  hands  and  arms,  bare  to  the  elbow  and  en- 
tirely devoid  of  ornament.  In  one  hand  she  held  a 
little  purse  through  whose  silken  meshes  glittered  a 
few  pieces  of  money. 

"  This  is  all  the  money  I  have  in  the  wide  world," 
she  said,  in  a  voice  of  pathetic  sweetness.  "  Take 
it,  if  you  will,  and  search  for  more  if  you  think  it 
worth  while  —  and  if  you  find  anything,  prithee, 
share  it  with  me !  " 

But  the  highwayman  scarcely  heard  her.  Through 
his  mask  his  eyes  were  fixed  upon  her  beautiful  face 
with  a  devouring  admiration  of  which  she  was  quite 
unconscious.  Not  that  such  an  expression  would 
have  seemed  at  all  extraordinary  to  her,  or  other- 
wise than  the  natural  tribute  of  any  masculine  crea- 
ture to  the  beauty  she  valued  at  its  full  worth. 

"  Keep  your  purse,  Madam,"  he  said,  and  his 
voice  had  lost  its  harshness ;  "  I  will  take  but  one 
thing  from  you  —  something  you  will  not  miss,  but 
that  a  monarch  might  prize  —  a  kiss  from  those 
lovely  lips." 


4  THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  A  kiss,  rascal!  Do  you  know  what  you  ask?  " 
she  exclaimed,  her  sweetness  vanishing  in  haughty 
anger.  "  Something  I  shall  not  miss,  forsooth ! 
What  can — " 

"  Oh !  kiss  him,  Prue ;  kiss  him  and  let  us  be 
gone!"  implored  her  companion.  "We  shall  miss 
the  mail-coach  at  the  cross-roads,  and  then  what 
will  become  of  us  ?  " 

The  highwayman  leaned  against  the  open  car- 
riage-door and  watched  the  struggling  emotions 
flickering  over  the  face  of  the  widow.  Anger  and 
disgust  were  succeeded  by  scornful  mirth,  and  at 
last,  with  a  gesture  of  indescribably  haughty  grace, 
she  extended  her  hand,  palm  downward. 

"  My  hand,  Sir  Highwayman,"  she  said  loft- 
ily, "  has  been  deemed  not  unworthy  of  royal 
kisses !  " 

"  My  plebeian  lips  would  not  venture  where  a 
king's  have  feasted,"  was  the  mocking  retort. 
"  But  whoever  in  future  may  kiss  your  lips  must 
come  after  Robin  Freemantle,  the  Highwayman. 
So,  sweet  one,  by  your  leave."  He  bent  suddenly 
over  her  and  kissed  her  boldly  on  the  scarlet  blossom 
of  her  mouth. 

She  drew  back,  gasping  with  anger  and  amaze- 
ment. "  How  dare  you  ?  "  she  almost  screamed. 

He  stood  a  moment  as  if  half -dazed  by  his  own 
audacity,  then  closed  the  carriage-door  and  replaced 
his  beaver  on  his  head. 

"  Good  night,  Ladies,"  he  cried  in  a  tone  of  reck- 
less gaiety.  "  A  pleasant  journey  to  London  and 
a  merry  time  at  court,  and  as  'tis  ill  junketing  on 


THE  PRICE  OF  A  KISS  5 

an  empty  purse,  accept  mine  in  exchange  for 
yours." 

With  which  he  flung  a  heavy  wallet  into  the  car- 
riage and  snatching  the  little  silken  trifle  from 
Prue's  hand,  sprang  on  his  horse  and  was  quickly 
lost  in  the  gloom  of  night. 

"  Insolent  varlet ! "  cried  Pine  passionately. 
"  Would  I  were  a  man  to  beat  him  to  death !  "  And 
she  burst  into  a  flood  of  angry  tears. 

"  Console  yourself,  sweet  cousin,"  said  her  com- 
panion coaxingly.  "  You  have  saved  our  jewels 
for  the  second  time  to-day  —  first  by  outwitting  a 
sheriff  and  now  by  cajoling  a  highwayman.  After 
all,  what  is  a  kiss?  You  have  just  as  many  left  for 
Sir  Geoffrey  as  you  had  before  you  were  robbed  of 
that  one." 

"  That  is  all  very  well,"  cried  Prue,  half  laugh- 
ing and  half  tearful,  "  but  how  would  you  have 
liked  it  if  it  had  happened  to  you?  " 

"  Faith,  I'm  not  sure  I  should  have  made  such  a 
fuss!  After  thirty  one  may  well  be  grateful  for 
the  kisses  of  a  handsome  young  gallant  —  for  I 
could  see  he  was  young,  and  I'll  warrant  me  he 
was  comely  too  —  even  if  he  is  Robin  Freemantle, 
the  highwayman." 

"  For  shame,  Cousin  Peggie,  an'  if  you  love  me, 
never  remind  me  of  this,"  replied  Prue,  with  a 
touch  of  irritation.  "  I  would  far  rather  have  lost 
my  few  last  jewels  than  have  suffered  such  an 
insult." 

"  So  would  not  I,"  laughed  the  incorrigible 
cousin.  "  What  with  play  and  the  haberdasher  all 


6  THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

I  have  left  in  the  world  is  contained  in  the  little 
box  under  my  feet,  and  I  should  count  that  cheaply 
saved  at  the  price  of  a  kiss." 

"  You  were  not  asked  to  pay  the  price,"  said 
Prue  coldly.  Then,  thrusting  her  head  out  of  the 
window,  she  relieved  her  pent-up  feelings  by  soundly 
berating  the  cowardly  serving-men  who  had  yielded 
without  a  blow  to  a  force  so  inferior  and  were  now 
wasting  precious  time  hunting  for  their  useless 
weapons  instead  of  hastening  to  the  near-by  cross- 
roads to  meet  the  mail-coach  in  which  the  two  ladies 
proposed  traveling  from  Yorkshire  to  London. 

The  two  men  clambered  back  into  the  rumble, 
somewhat  shamefaced,  and  each  striving  by  mut- 
tered disclaimers  to  reject  the  charge  of  cowardice 
in  favor  of  the  other.  The  postilion,  suddenly  gal- 
vanized into  activity,  roused  the  horses  with  strange 
oaths  and  cries  and  fierce  cracklings  of  the  whip. 
Prudence  closed  the  window  and  retired  into  the  vol- 
uminous shelter  of  her  cloak,  and  the  interrupted 
journey  was  resumed. 


CHAPTER  II 

LADY  DRUMLOCH 

NO  further  adventures  overtook  the  two  ladies 
The  mail-coach  picked  them  up  at  the  cross- 
roads and  carried  them  to  London  in  course  of 
time,  where  they  were  soon  safely  housed  with  their 
grandmother,  Lady  Drumloch. 

My  Lady  Drumloch  was,  as  all  the  world  knows, 
a  very  great  lady,  and  back  in  the  days  of  King 
Charles  the  Second  had  been  a  beauty  and  a  toast. 
The  daughter  of  a  duke  and  the  wife  of  an  earl, 
she  had  queened  it  in  two  courts,  had  gone  into 
exile  with  King  James,  intrigued  and  plotted  with 
the  Jacobites,  and  finally,  having  lost  husband  and 
son  and  fortune  in  her  devotion  to  a  hopeless  cause, 
had  made  her  peace  with  Queen  Anne  and  returned 
to  England  to  eke  out  her  last  years  in  the  soul- 
crushing  poverty  of  the  great. 

But  as  with  her  she  brought  her  two  grand- 
daughters, the  Honorable  Margaret  Moffat  and 
Lady  Prudence  Wynne,  her  meager  little  house  on 
the  outskirts  of  Mayfair  soon  became  not  only  the 
Mecca  of  other  Jacobites  as  aristocratic  and  as  poor 
as  herself,  but  of  many  who  were  neither  Jacobites 
nor  in  reduced  circumstances.  Among  both  classes 
the  Lady  Prudence,  though  but  fifteen,  soon  found 
courtiers  to  pick  and  choose  from.  The  saucy 

7. 


8  THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

child  with  her  skin  of  milk  and  roses,  her  tangle 
of  dark  curling  locks  and  her  wonderful  blue  eyes, 
was  already  possessed  of  that  mysterious  charm  of 
femininity  by  which  the  world  has  been  swayed 
since  the  days  of  Eve. 

To  gratify  her  grandmother's  ambition,  and  at 
the  same  time  emancipate  herself  from  the  restric- 
tions of  the  school-room,  she  married  the  Viscount 
Brooke,  heir  of  the  Earl  of  Overbridge.  But  the 
marriage  resulted  disastrously.  The  viscount  had 
long  before  exhausted  his  private  means,  and  al- 
though his  father,  hoping  that  marriage  would  sober 
and  settle  him,  made  a  sufficiently  liberal  allowance 
to  the  young  couple,  a  few  months  of  reckless  ex- 
travagance and  gaiety  plunged  them  in  an  ocean 
of  debt,  from  which  the  viscount,  in  a  fit  of  de- 
lirium, extricated  himself  by  means  of  a  bullet  in 
his  brain,  leaving  Prue  a  widow  at  sixteen  with 
no  home  but  her  grandmother's  little  house  in  May- 
fair,  and  not  a  penny  beyond  the  grudging  bounty 
of  her  father-in-law. 

Still,  it  was  delightful  to  be  a  widow,  and,  con- 
sequently, free  from  all  authority.  Having  cur- 
tailed her  mourning  within  the  scantiest  limits,  she 
returned  to  society  with  renewed  ardor,  where  her 
youth  and  beauty,  enhanced  by  her  widowhood, 
secured  her  a  flattering  welcome.  She  played  the 
hostess  in  Lady  Drumloch's  shabby  drawing-rooms, 
filling  them  with  laughter,  scandal  and  love-making. 
She  chaperoned  Margaret  Moffat,  who  was  ten 
years  her  senior  and  who  loved  her  with  the  in- 


LADY  DRUMLOCH  9 

fatuation  one  sometimes,  if  rarely,  observes  in  a 
very  plain  woman  for  a  very  beautiful  one. 

Poor  as  she  notoriously  was,  the  oft-repeated 
rumors  of  Prue's  engagement  to  one  or  another  of 
her  wealthy  admirers  enabled  her  to  run  into  debt 
time  and  again  for  such  necessaries  of  existence  as 
fashionable  dresses  and  costly  jewels,  for  which  she 
certainly  never  expected  to  pay  out  of  her  own 
pocket.  Nay,  even  money-lenders,  beguiled  by  her 
bright  eyes  and  her  unquestionably  promising  matri- 
monial prospects,  had  furnished  the  sinews  of  war 
(for  which  her  future  husband  would  have  to  pay 
right  royally),  and  this  despite  the  fact  that  the 
Lady  Prudence  Brooke,  widowed  at  sixteen,  was 
still  a  widow  at  two-and-twenty. 

Lady  Drumloch's  granddaughters  were  not  ex- 
pected at  her  town-house,  and  when  the  hired  cab- 
riolet in  which  they  arrived  drew  up  at  her  door, 
the  ancient  butler  was  divided  between  joy  at  the 
sight  of  the  two  bright  young  faces,  and  trepidation 
as  to  the  welcome  they  might  expect  from  the  higher 
powers.  Mrs.  Lowton,  my  lady's  waiting-woman, 
was  troubled  by  no  such  complex  emotions.  She 
made  little  attempt  to  conceal  her  own  dissatisfac- 
tion or  to  disguise  the  fact  that  the  old  countess 
was  in  no  humor  for  gay  company. 

"  My  lady  has  had  an  awful  attack  of  gout,"  she 
averred,  "  and  the  doctors  have  ordered  the  strict- 
est quiet.  The  least  agitation  might  be  fatal." 

"  We  will  be  as  quiet  as  mice,  Lowton,"  said 
Lady  Prudence,  ostentatiously  tiptoeing  across  the 


io         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

narrow  hall  and  up  the  steep  stairs.  "  James,  pay 
the  coachman  and  let  me  know  how  much  I  owe 
you." 

The  butler  obeyed,  though  with  no  great  alacrity. 
"  Her  ladyship  ain't  long  getting  back  to  her  old 
tricks,"  he  muttered  with  rather  a  wry  smile,  as 
he  hunted  through  his  pockets  for  the  coach-hire. 
"  I  gave  the  man  two  shillings  —  and  sixpence  for 
himself,"  he  said,  coming  back  promptly.  "  I  sup- 
pose your  ladyship  has  not  forgotten  that  before 
you  went  to  Yorkshire  — " 

"  Oh !  never  mind  that,  James,"  she  interrupted 
hastily.  "  Let  bygones  be  bygones,  and  when  I 
come  into  my  fortune  you  will  see  whether  I  for- 
get anything.  Come,  Peggie,  let  us  get  to  bed.  I 
am  fainting  for  want  of  sleep." 

"I  am  fainting,  too,"  retorted  Miss  Moffat, 
"  but  more  with  hunger  than  sleep.  Lowton,  for 
the  love  of  Heaven,  order  some  breakfast,  and  that 
speedily." 

"I'll  see  what  I  can  do,  Miss  Margaret,"  said 
Lowton,  without  enthusiasm,  "  but  her  ladyship 
keeps  us  closer  than  ever,  and  I  doubt  if  there's 
anything  for  breakfast  but  milk  and  bread." 

The  cousins  crept  softly  up  to  the  little  room  on 
the  top  floor,  where  their  dismantled  beds  and  the 
bare  floors  gave  so  much  evidence  of  disuse  and  so 
little  promise  of  hospitality  that  the  most  courageous 
hearts  might  have  sunk  a  little. 

"  We  were  better  off  at  Bleakmoor,  even  with 
the  bailiffs  in  attendance,"  said  Prue  piteously. 

"  Mayhap  —  but   there   we   were    out   of   help's 


LADY  DRUMLOCH  11 

way,  and  here,  if  we  will  —  or  rather  if  you  will  — 
there  is  succor  at  hand,"  said  the  undaunted  Peggie 
— "  and  even  while  I  speak  of  rescue,  here  comes 
my  dear  old  Lowton  with  food  for  the  starving  and 
sheets  and  blankets  for  the  weary.  Come,  coz,  eat 
and  sleep,  and  when  you  wake  you  will  be  ready 
for  any  emergency." 

It  was  evening  before  the  tired  travelers  rose, 
and,  ransacking  wardrobes  and  closets  for  the 
wherewithal  to  replace  their  soiled  and  dusty  trav- 
eling attire,  made  themselves  presentable  for  the 
inevitable  visit  of  ceremony  to  their  grandmother. 

Quiet  as  they  had  been,  the  old  lady  had  become 
aware  of  their  arrival  long  before  the  faithful 
Lowton  ventured,  in  lugubrious  whispers,  to  com- 
municate the  news. 

"  There  is  no  necessity,  my  good  Lowton,  for 
you  to  apologize  for  my  granddaughters,"  Lady 
Drumloch  had  interrupted,  almost  before  the  first 
word  was  uttered.  "  No  doubt  I  shall  have  to 
listen  to  half-a-dozen  different  stories  before  I  get 
at  the  true  cause  of  this  visit,  so  you  may  as  well 
spare  yourself  the  trouble  of  inventing  excuses  for 
you  know  not  what.  Let  me  know  when  the  trav- 
elers rise,  and  I  will  receive  them  and  hear  what 
they  have  to  say  for  themselves." 

The  venerable  countess  lay  in  a  huge  four-poster 
bed,  propped  high  with  pillows  scarcely  whiter  than 
her  waxen  face,  upon  which  still  lingered  some  of 
the  beauty  and  all  of  the  indomitable  hauteur  of  the< 
belle  of  half-a-century  ago.  Her  scant  and  snowy 
locks  were  concealed  under  a  cap  of  priceless  lace 


12         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

and  ruffles  of  the  same  fell  over  her  small  ivory- 
white  hands.  At  the  ceremonious  announcement 
of  the  Viscountess  Brooke  and  the  Honorable  Miss 
Moffat,  she  slightly  moved  her  head  on  the  pillow 
and  turned  her  bright,  dark  eyes  from  one  to  the 
other. 

"  To  what  do  I  owe  the  honor  of  this  visit,  my 
lady  Viscountess"?  "  she  inquired  dryly. 

"  Partly,  dear  Grandmother,  to  our  anxiety 
about  your  ladyship's  health,"  said  Prudence,  sweep- 
ing so  deep  a  curtsey  that  she  seemed  to  be  falling 
on  her  knees,  "  and  partly  because  a  whole  long 
year  in  the  wilds  of  Yorkshire  hath  made  us  home- 
sick." 

"  A  whole  long  year  in  your  brother-in-law's 
house,  gaming,  dancing  and  —  unless  I  am  misin- 
formed—  play-acting  and  fox-hunting,  has  still 
left  you  with  an  appetite  for  the  follies  of  the  court, 
I  doubt  not,"  said  Lady  Drumloch.  "  Does  your 
ladyship  return  to  Yorkshire  to-day  ?  or  to-morrow  ? 
I  understand  that  you  traveled  without  escort  or 
baggage  and  by  the  public  conveyance !  " 

"  Do  not  be  angry  with  us,  dear  Grandmother," 
pleaded  Prue,  her  bright  eyes  filling  with  tears 
(the  minx  always  had  a  supply  at  her  command). 
"  You  do  not  want  us  to  go  back  to-morrow,  do 
you?  Are  you  not  a  little  tired  of  the  excellent 
Lowton's  conversation,  and  do  you  not  weary  for 
your  little  Prue  to  read  you  Mr.  Pope's  latest  poem 
and  Mr.  Steele's  new  play?  and  make  you  die  of 
laughing  over  her  adventures  with  the  Yorkshire 
squires  ?  " 


LADY  DRUMLOCH  13 

"  And  not  only  the  squires,"  put  in  Peggie,  who 
had  been  standing  rather  in  the  background,  eagerly 
awaiting  a  chance  to  bring  herself  into  notice. 
"  Prue  has  had  adventures  with  gallants  more  ro- 
mantic than  Yorkshire  squires !  " 

"Ah!  is  that  Margaret  Moffat?"  cried  the  old 
lady.  "  'Tis  sure  where  Prudence  is,  her  shadow 
can  not  be  far  away!  And,  pray,  what  have  your 
adventures  been?  Have  not  even  bumpkin  squires 
fallen  to  your  charms?  Surely  Prudence  has  not 
carried  off  all  the  honors  there  as  well  as  here  ?  " 

This  was  a  hard  thrust,  for  Peggie  was  as  plain 
as  her  cousin  was  fair,  and  had  entered  her  fourth 
decade  without  one  serious  assault  upon  her  maiden 
heart.  Devoted  to  Prue,  she  was  too  loyal  to 
think  that  this  was  partly  the  fault  of  the  youthful 
widow's  all-devouring  coquetry,  but  she  was  very 
human,  and  it  wounded  her  to  be  forced  into  ac- 
knowledging the  contrast. 

"  Alack,  Peggie  made  short  work  of  their 
hearts,"  cried  Prue,  coming  to  the  rescue.  "  I 
only  turned  their  heads.  'Tis  strange  how  foolish 
men  will  always  be  about  a  widow." 

"  Foolish  enough  to  marry  one  widow  after  be- 
ing jilted  by  another,"  acquiesced  the  grandmother 
dryly.  "  I  hear  thy  erstwhile  lover,  Lord  Beach- 
combe,  has  married  the  Widow  Curzon.  The 
baker's  daughter  hath  a  second  chance  of  wearing 
strawberry-leaves." 

"  She  may  have  them  for  aught  I  care  —  along 
with  the  meanest,  ugliest,  most  disagreeable  man 
that  ever  decked  his  empty  head  withal,"  cried  Pru- 


14         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

dence.  "  I  am  going  to  marry  the  finest  gentleman 
in  England  —  the  bravest  and  handsomest  —  and 
the  cleverest,  too.  When  a  man  of  parts  is  in  Par- 
liament, 'tis  his  own  fault  if  he  be  not  in  the  Cabi- 
net —  and  once  in  the  Cabinet  there  are  garters  and 
coronets  to  be  had  for  the  trouble  of  reaching  after 
them." 

"  A  politician,  too ! "  sneered  the  countess. 
"  Pray,  which  of  our  worthy  statesmen  has  had  his 
head  turned  by  the  widow  ?  " 

"  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert,"  replied  Prue,  and 
having  got  so  far  she  stopped,  and  the  blood  rushed 
in  a  torrent  to  her  face,  crimsoning  even  her  fore- 
head and  neck. 

"  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert ! "  the  old  lady  re- 
peated slowly,  while  her  dark,  brilliant  eyes  seemed 
to  burn  down  into  Prue's  inmost  soul.  "  The 
same  that  fought  the  duel  with  Colonel  O'Keefe?  " 

"  Surely,"  murmured  Prue,  "  I  could  do  no  bet- 
ter than  give  myself  to  the  man  who  killed  my 
traducer.  If  Colonel  O'Keefe  misunderstood  or 
misinterpreted  a  piece  of  girlish  bravado  —  was  I 
to  blame?  And  if  he  dared  to  comment  disparag- 
ingly upon  what  he  did  not  understand,  and  make 
a  public  jest  of  a  woman  who  had  only  played  a 
harmless  joke  upon  him  —  you,  dear  Grandmother, 
would  be  the  last  to  reproach  the  gentleman  who 
drew  sword  in  her  vindication." 

"  Thereby  leading  every  one  to  suppose  that  there 
was  something  to  vindicate,"  retorted  Lady  Drum- 
loch.  "If  the  marriage  really  takes  place,  it  will 
put  a  complete  quietus  upon  ill-natured  tongues,  but 


LADY  DRUMLOCH  15 

bethink  you  how  they  will  wag  if  this  should  prove 
another  of  your  affaires  manquees!  " 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  approve,  Madam,"  said 
Prue,  with  an  air  of  the  deepest  respect,  as  she 
again  sank  gracefully  down  in  a  most  profound 
curtsey. 

"  I  said  nothing '  about  approval,"  replied  her 
grandmother  sternly.  "  I  know  your  Sir  Geoffrey 
Beaudesert  —  a  Whig  —  a  renegade,  whose  father 
was  a  good  Catholic  and  a  '  King's  man.'  The  son 
would  have  made  a  fitting  husband  for  your  father's 
daughter  if  he  had  been  loyal  to  his  father's  king 
—  but  you  know  well  that  I  would  rather  see  you 
the  wife  of  the  least  of  Jacobites  than  the  greatest 
of  Whigs.  Go  your  own  wilful  way  and  do  not 
pretend  to  ask  my  approval." 

"  I  am  not  married  to  him  yet,"  said  Prue,  who 
had  not  been  unprepared  for  a  vigorous  pro- 
test from  her  ancestress,  and  for  obvious  reasons 
desired  to  placate  her.  "  Nor  would  I  contemplate 
such  a  step  until  my  dear  grandmother's  recovery 
set  me  free  from  anxiety.  And  now,  if  your  lady- 
ship will  permit  us  to  kiss  your  hand,  we  will  with- 
draw, as  we  grieve  to  hear  that  your  physician  has 
forbidden  you  all  excitement." 

During  the  whole  interview  the  two  girls  had  re- 
mained standing  —  not  being  invited  to  seat  them- 
selves, nor  venturing  to  do  so  without  permission. 
As  they  withdrew  after  saluting  the  tapering,  ivory 
fingers  of  the  invalid,  she  called  after  them,  with 
more  graciousness  than  she  had  yet  shown,  "  You 
may  return  in  the  evening  and  read  me  Mr.  Pope's 


16         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

poem.  I  have  had  it  these  three  weeks  and  could 
not  bring  myself  to  let  Lowton  stumble  through  it. 
'Twill  give  me  something  to  think  of  besides  an  old 
woman's  gout  and  gruel." 


CHAPTER  III 
SIR  GEOFFREY'S  ARRIVAL 

LADY  DRUMLOCH  was  not  really  half  so  ill 
as  she  fancied  herself,  and  no  better  medicine 
could  have  been  prescribed  to  hasten  her  conva- 
lescence than  the  gaiety  and  cheerfulness  that  her 
two  granddaughters  infused  into  the  atmosphere  of 
the  little  house  in  May  fair,  as  soon  as  they  had  re- 
covered from  the  fatigues  of  their  journey. 

Instead  of  lying  in  bed  grumbling  at  the  length 
of  the  lonely  days  and  pain-weary  nights,  her  lady- 
ship allowed  herself  to  be  cajoled  into  rising  and 
reclining  on  a  couch,  which  was  then  wheeled  into 
the  adjoining  room  by  James  and  the  faithful  Low- 
ton.  At  first  this  was  only  for  an  hour  or  two 
a  day,  and  the  invalid,  refusing  to  admit  that  she 
could  be,  in  any  way,  benefited  by  the  lively  gossip 
of  her  granddaughters,  had  insisted  that  the  reading 
of  sermons  and  other  pious  works  suited  better  with 
her  age  and  infirmities  than  plays  and  poetry.  But 
by  the  end  of  the  week  she  had  abandoned  Atterbury 
and  Taylor  for  the  Toiler  and  the  latest  works  of 
Pope  and  Prior,  and  was  thirsting  for  yet  more  ex- 
citing entertainment,  which  she  knew  to  be  tanta- 
lizingly  near  at  hand. 

As  soon  as  the  return  of  the  cousins  became 
known,  their  numerous  friends,  who  had  contented 

17 


i8         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

themselves  with  polite  inquiries  after  the  invalid, 
while  Lowton  was  the  sole  dispenser  of  news,  dis- 
played a  touching  solicitude  about  her  condition. 
Every  afternoon  Lady  Prue  held  quite  a  little 
levee  —  at  which  the  sickness  of  the  old  countess 
up-stairs  did  not  interfere  greatly  with  the  gaiety 
below.  Day  by  day  these  cheerful  sounds  grew 
more  and  more  exasperating  to  Lady  Drumloch, 
whose  passion  for  scandal  was  only  whetted  by  the 
comments  of  the  two  girls,  and  who  chafed  rebel- 
liously  under  the  restrictions  of  the  doctor,  and  led 
the  devoted  Lowton  the  life  of  a  dog. 

"  Did  I  hear  voices  and  laughter  this  afternoon?  " 
she  demanded,  one  evening,  when  her  granddaugh- 
ters came  to  bid  her  a  dutiful  good  night. 

"  'Twas  but  Mary  Warburton  and  Lady  Lim- 
erick, who  came  to  inquire  after  the  health  of  their 
beloved  cousin,"  said  Prue  demurely. 

"  No  one  else  ?  It  seemed  to  me  that  a  dozen 
times,  at  least,  the  door  was  thundered  at  as  though 
a  queen's  messenger  demanded  entrance." 

"  In  very  truth,  your  ladyship's  penetration  is 
marvelous!"  cried  Prue  eagerly.  "Her  Majesty 
most  graciously  bade  Lady  Limerick  inquire  the 
latest  news  of  '  the  dear  countess'  gout ' —  and 
also,  if  my  duties  at  your  bedside  left  me  leisure  to 
attend  the  court." 

"  And,  pray,  what  answer  did  you  make  ?  "  Lady 
Drumloch  inquired  suspiciously. 

"  In  good  faith,  I  was  put  to  it  for  excuses,  since 
I  had  admitted  the  favorable  change  in  your  symp- 
toms, and  received  the  congratulations  of  many 


SIR  GEOFFREY'S  ARRIVAL  19 

anxious  friends,"  returned  Prue  pathetically.  "  Tis 
true  I  have  no  heart  for  frivolous  pleasures  while 
my  dear  grandmother  is  ill  —  but  the  court  is  an- 
other thing,  and  people  begin  to  wonder  at  my  ab- 
sence." 

"  Well,  what  is  the  matter  ?  Why  make  excuses 
at  all?  I  am  not  aware  that  I  have  imposed  any 
restrictions  upon  you,"  said  the  old  lady  crisply. 
"  Lowton  has  taken  very  good  care  of  me  for  a 
year,  and  you  may  still  venture  to  trust  me  to  her 
for  a  few  hours.  'Tis  news  to  me  that  you  should 
be  so  averse  to  *  frivolous  pleasures '  that  you  need 
make  me  an  excuse  for  giving  them  up." 

"  Indeed,  dear  Grandmother,  it  was  no  vain  ex- 
cuse — 'twas  the  truth,"  Prue  protested.  "  Yet  not 
the  whole  truth,  for  my  baggage  is  still  at  Bleak- 
moor,  whence  we  fled  in  such  a  hurry  that  we 
brought  naught  away  with  us  but  what  we  traveled 
in!" 

"  Well  ?  Are  there  no  milliners  and  mantua- 
makers  in  London  ?  "  inquired  the  countess,  with 
an  air  of  surprise. 

"  Several  hundred,  I  should  think  — and  every 
one  of  them  threatening  me  with  the  law's  worst 
penalties  for  debt !  The  wretches !  they  were  eager 
enough  to  fling  their  wares  under  my  feet,  when 
they  believed  me  rich  —  or  likely  to  be.  But  now 
—  never  a  mercer  or  tailor  will  trust  me  for  a 
gown !  " 

"What!  not  with  the  prospect  of  a  husband  in 
Parliament?  "  cried  her  grandmother,  laughing  ma- 
liciously. 


20         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"Indeed  no,  Grannie,"  sighed  Prue  piteously; 
"  not  unless  I  pay,  at  least,  for  what  I  order  now." 

"  They  have  learned  wisdom  at  last,"  retorted 
Lady  Drumloch  coldly,  "  and  that  is  more  than  can 
be  said  of  you,  who  during  four  or  five  years  of 
widowhood  have  jilted  half  the  peerage,  made  your- 
self the  byword  of  the  court,  and  now  go  in  fear 
of  the  debtors'  prison!  " 

"  There  was  no  talk  of  a  debtors'  prison  for  me 
when  I  was  Queen  Anne's  favorite  lady-in-wait- 
ing," said  Prue,  with  a  touch  of  arrogance,  "  but 
now  they  only  remember  that  I  was  banished  from 
court  — " 

"  And  that  the  rich  lovers  you  jilted  have  mar- 
ried other  women,  while  you  are  still  '  the  Widow 
Brooke,'  "  Lady  Drumloch  interrupted. 

"  But  they  will  change  their  tone  when  they  find 
that  the  queen  has  forgiven  me,"  said  Prue,  ig- 
noring her  grandmother's  last  thrust,  "  and  now  she 
has  sent  me  such  a  gracious  message  by  Lady  Lim- 
erick—  but,  alack  the  day!  —  what  am  I  saying? 
How  can  I  present  myself  before  Her  Majesty  with- 
out a  decent  gown  to  my  back?  Oh,  Grand- 
mother — "  She  fell  on  her  knees,  and  would  have 
clasped  the  pale,  slender  hand  that  lay  on  the  cover- 
let. But  Lady  Drumloch  drew  back  out  of  her 
reach  and  regarded  her  with  resentful  eyes. 

"  Well  ? "  she  queried  in  her  driest  voice. 
"  What  do  you  propose  to  do  ?  You  have  a  plan, 
no  doubt,  to  accomplish  what  you  have  set  your 
heart  upon." 

"  No  —  I  have  no  plan,"  cried  Prudence  despair- 


SIR  GEOFFREY'S  ARRIVAL  21 

ingly,  "  but  surely  you,  dear  Grandmother,  will  not 
let  your  little  Prue  lose  her  last  chance  of  win- 
ning back  the  queen's  favor,  for  lack  of  a  few 
guineas  to  buy  a  gown!  "  and  once  more  she  tried 
to  get  possession  of  the  reluctant  hand. 

But  Lady  Drumloch  pushed  her  away  with  such 
force,  in  her  anger,  that  she  almost  overturned  her 
on  the  floor.  "  I  thought  I  should  soon  come  at 
the  cause  of  all  your  pretty  speeches,  you  false 
jade!  "  she  shrieked.  "  Is  it  not  enough  that  I  give 
you  shelter  in  the  home  you  have  disgraced  with 
your  reckless  follies,  that  I  have  to  admit  your 
wanton  companions  —  only  Mary  Warburton  and 
Lady  Limerick,  forsooth!  Do  you  think  I  am  so 
deaf  as  not  to  have  heard  the  voices  of  half  a 
dozen  men,  and  your  dear  friend,  Barbara  Sweet- 
ing, sharer  and  inspirer  of  half  the  mad  frolics  that 
have  made  you  notorious  ?  —  but  I  must  pay  your 
debts  and  give  you  money,  when  I'm  so  poor  I  can 
only  afford  one  woman  to  wait  on  me,  and  can 
not  go  out  for  an  airing  because  a  carriage  is  too 
great  a  luxury  for  me  —  even  a  hired  one !  C'est 
honteux  —  c'est  infame" — and  the  angry  old 
woman,  who  seldom  lapsed  into  French,  except  in 
moments  of  great  agitation,  burst  into  hysteric  cries 
and  weeping,  at  which  Lowton  hurried  in,  and  the 
girls,  with  scared  faces,  fled. 

"  She  is  much  worse  than  she  used  to  be,"  whis- 
pered Peggie.  "  Formerly,  when  you  asked  for 
money,  she  used  to  tell  you  to  go  to  the  devil,  and 
scold  you  roundly  —  but  she  gave  it  after  all.  And 
now  —  I  do  not  think  she  will." 


22         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"If  she  waits  until  I  ask  her,  she  certainly  never 
will,"  said  Prudence  proudly.  "  To-morrow  I  will 
go  to  old  Aarons  —  though  I  vowed  the  last  time 
should  be  the  very  last." 

The  girls  were  still  lingering  upon  the  staircase, 
listening  to  the  soothing  murmurs  of  Mrs.  Lowton 
and  the  outcries  of  the  invalid,  gradually  sinking 
into  whimpers,  when  a  loud  knocking  announced 
the  arrival  of  a  visitor  of  importance,  and  James 
presently  came  up  with  a  petition  from  Sir  Geoffrey 
Beaudesert  for  a  few  words  with  the  Lady  Prudence, 
notwithstanding  the  lateness  of  the  hour. 

"  The  lateness  of  the  hour !  Why,  'tis  barely 
nine  o'clock,"  cried  Prue,  blushing  and  sparkling 
with  delight.  "  Go,  James,  and  tell  Sir  Geoffrey  I 
will  be  with  him  immediately.  Come,  Peggie." 

And  away  she  flew  to  reassure  herself,  by  a 
glance  at  her  mirror,  that  her  scene  with  Lady 
Drumloch  had  not  dishevelled  her  luxuriant  curls, 
and  to  disguise  the  shabbiness  of  her  gown  with  a 
lace  kerchief  and  a  knot  of  ribbon. 

"  A  plague  on  all  milliners  and  tailors,"  she 
pouted ;  "  to  think  that  I  should  have  to  receive  my 
betrothed  after  three  weeks'  separation,  looking 
more  like  my  lady's  scullery-maid  than  her  grand- 
daughter." 

"  Sir  Geoffrey  will  never  know  what  you  wear, 
if  you  sit  away  from  the  lamp,  where  he  can  just 
see  your  eyes  by  the  firelight,"  counseled  Margaret. 
"  No  man  cares  to  look  at  your  gown,  who  can  see 
your  face." 


SIR  GEOFFREY'S  ARRIVAL  23 

"  Flatterer ! "  cried  Prue ;  but  she  kissed  her 
cousin  on  both  cheeks,  and  certainly  gave  no  sign  of 
doubting  her  veracity. 

Sir  Geoffrey  was  impatiently  waiting  in  the  dim 
drawing-room,  where  James  had  reluctantly  lighted 
a  pair  of  candles  in  an  ancient  silver  sconce  that 
Benvenuto  Cellini  himself  may  have  chiseled.  The 
two  ladies  swept  the  most  ceremonious  of  curtseys, 
but  at  the  sight  of  Prue's  radiant  loveliness,  her 
visitor  dropped  on  one  knee,  and  taking  both  her 
little  hands  in  his,  kissed  first  one  and  then  the  other 
with  unaffected  ardor. 

"How  have  I  lived  all  .these  centuries?"  he 
cried  — "  they  can  not  have  been  merely  weeks  — 
without  my  Goddess,  my  Star — "  and  so  on,  after 
the  highflown  fashion  of  the  days  of  Pope  and 
Dryden.  To  which  Prue  was  well  accustomed,  and 
did  not  find  any  too  fantastic  for  her  highly  cul- 
tivated vanity. 

"  Rise,  Sir  Geoffrey,"  she  said  very  graciously, 
and  when  he  obeyed,  offered  him  her  glowing  cheek, 
upon  which,  one  may  be  sure,  he  made  haste  to 
imprint  more  than  one  or  two  impassioned  kisses. 
Then  Margaret,  who  at  first  kept  discreetly  in  the 
background,  came  forward  and  presented  her  hand, 
contenting  herself  with  a  salute  of  a  more  perfunc- 
tory nature. 

"When  did  you  return  to  town,  Sir  Geoffrey?  " 
Prue  inquired. 

"Can  you  ask?"  he  said  reproachfully.  "You 
may  be  sure  I  have  only  waited  to  shake  off  the 


24        THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

dust  of  travel,  before  hastening  to  throw  myself  at 
your  feet." 

"  And  how  did  you  leave  Bleakmoor  ?  "  she  went 
on,  "  and  have  you  seen  our  host  and  his  friends 
since  we  left  them?  " 

"  Bleakmoor,  deprived  of  the  sunshine,"  said  Sir 
Geoffrey,  including  the  two  girls  in  a  low  bow, 
"  has  by  now  been  given  over  to  the  bats  and  owls. 
Brooke  hath  betaken  himself  to  Malvern,  and  his 
friends  are  scattered  to  their  own  homes.  The 
hunting  is  better  since  the  thaw,  but  I  have  lost  all 
taste  for  the  field  when  Prue  no  longer  leads  the 
hunt." 

"  We  scarcely  expected  that  you  would  follow  us 
so  soon,"  remarked  Peggie. 

"Was  I  in  too  great  haste?"  he  demanded. 
"  Had  I  been  warned  of  your  sudden  journey,  I 
might,  perhaps,  have  offended  by  offering  my 
escort." 

"  You  would  have  had  a  chance  of  playing  the 
knight-errant,"  said  Prue,  "  and  coming  to  the 
rescue  of  two  forlorn  damsels  set  upon  by  footpads 
and  forced  to  resort  to  all  kinds  of  feminine  wiles 
to  protect  their  jewels." 

The  baronet  rapped  out  an  oath.  "  The  fellows 
attacked  you  and  I  was  not  there  to  make  mincemeat 
of  them !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  By  Jove,  these  rascals 
become  more  and  more  audacious  every  day.  A 
band  of  them  attacked  Will  Battersea  and  myself 
on  the  North  Road,  where  we  had  the  good,  for- 
tune to  capture  the  ringleader  and  hand  him  over  to 
the  officers  of  justice." 


SIR  GEOFFREY'S  ARRIVAL  25 

"Bravo!"  cried  Margaret,  clapping  her  hands. 
"  Tell  us  all  about  it,  Sir  Geoffrey." 

"  Oh !  'twas  the  usual  thing,"  he  began.  "We 
were  on  a  lonely  road,  not  far  from  Willesden  — 
Will  and  I  riding  in  front,  with  our  fellows  close 
behind — when  several  masked  horsemen  appeared 
from  behind  a  clump  of  bushes,  and  covering  us 
with  their  firearms,  demanded  our  money  or  our 
lives—" 

("  Stand  and  deliver — "  murmured  Peggie,  with 
a  covert  glance  at  her  cousin. )  —  "  We  proceeded  to 
argue  the  matter,"  Sir  Geoffrey  continued,  "  and 
either  by  accident  or  to  intimidate  us,  one  of  the 
rascals  let  fly  and  hit  my  man  Brown  in  the  shoul- 
der. Instantly,  there  was  a  melee,  in  the  midst  of 
which  approaching  shouts  were  heard  and  the  high- 
waymen, at  the  word  of  command,  dashed  off,  pur- 
sued by  Will  Battersea  and  myself.  A  parting  shot, 
fired  at  random,  brought  down  the  horse  of  one  of 
the  highwaymen,  who  threw  his  rider  into  a  ditch 
and  rolled  over  him.  There  we  found  him  with  a 
broken  collarbone,  and  handed  him  over  to  the 
mounted  constabulary,  who  had  arrived  so  oppor- 
tunely." 

"  I  shudder  to  think  what  might  have  happened," 
said  Prue  gravely,  "  had  their  arrival  been  less  well- 
timed." 

"  Spare  your  tremors,  my  dearest,"  replied  Sir 
Geoffrey,  rather  nettled  by  her  tone.  "You  surely 
do  not  think  that  Will  and  I  were  in  any  peril  from 
half-a-dozen  highwaymen?  To  say  nothing  of  our 
men,  who  were  both  sturdy  rustics  and  had  served 


26         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

in  the  West-Riding  Yeomanry.  I  vow  I  was  dis- 
appointed at  the  interruption,  and  would  rather  have 
taken  Robin  Freemantle  with  my  pistol  at  his  ear, 
than  pulled  him  out  of  a  ditch  with  the  help  of  a 
constable." 

"  Robin  Freemantle !"  the  two  ladies  exclaimed 
simultaneously.  Then  the  blood  rushed  so  tumultu- 
ously  to  Prue's  face,  that  she  was  thankful  for  the 
dim  light  that  hid  her  confusion. 

"  What !  was  it  he  that  assailed  you  on  Bleak- 
moor  ?  The  fellow  is  ubiquitous ! "  cried  Sir 
Geoffrey.  "  I  will  not  forget  to  add  this  to  his 
other  crimes,  when  I  am  witness  on  his  trial.  The 
man  who  has  dared  to  attack  the  fairest  lady  in 
England  —  the  protegee  of  her  Grace  of  Marl- 
borough  —  should  be  drawn  and  quartered ;  hanging 
is  too  good  for  him." 

"  Sir  Geoffrey !  I  forbid  you  to  mention  my 
name !  "  she  exclaimed,  in  a  great  flutter.  "  It  may 
not  be  the  same  man  —  besides,  he  took  nothing 
from  us,  did  he,  Peggie?  Nothing,  that  is  to  say 
of  any  —  any  — " 

"  My  dear  Prudence  —  the  mere  fact  of  his  at- 
tacking you  would  rouse  the  country,"  cried  her 
lover,  rather  pompously.  "  It  would  have  more 
effect  upon  the  jury  than  a  dozen  ordinary  highway 
robberies  — "  . 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  rouse  the  country,"  inter- 
rupted Prue.  "  What !  am  I  to  be  discussed  by 
lawyers  and  jurymen,  and  lampooned,  forsooth,  in 
the  Flying  Post!  My  grandmother  would  never 
forgive  it  — " 


SIR  GEOFFREY'S  ARRIVAL  27 

"  Dearest  Prue,  pardon  me  for  suggesting  any- 
thing that  could  for  one  moment  distress  you;  it 
was  but  my  eagerness  to  punish  the  scoundrel  for 
his  crimes.  Let  us  relegate  him  to  oblivion.  Such 
subjects  are  not  for  the  lips  and  ears  of  Beauty. 
Tell  me,  sweet  Prue,  when  may  I  hope  to  see  Lady 
Drumloch  and  implore  her  sanction  to  my  suit?" 

"  I  have  already  broken  the  matter  to  her,"  re- 
plied Prue,  "  but,  as  we  anticipated,  without  any 
great  success,  at  present.  She  is,  as  you  know,  an 
ardent  Jacobite  and  can  not  be  expected  to  approve 
your  politics,  which  are  considerably  more  impor- 
tant to  her  than  my  happiness.  Mayhap,  when  she 
becomes  acquainted  with  you  she  may  blame  me  less. 
You  must  exercise  your  eloquence  on  her  as  you 
did  on  me,"  she  added,  with  a  coquettish  smile, 
"  and  then  I  think  I  can  safely  leave  our  cause  in 
your  hands.  My  prayers  shall  accompany  you,  and 
if  necessary  we  will  kneel  side  by  side  and  implore 
the  ancestral  benediction." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  MONEY-LENDER  INTERVENES 

EITHER  her  hysterics  or  her  gout  kept  my 
Lady  Drumloch  in  her  chamber  long  enough 
to  try  the  brief  patience  of  Prudence  Brooke.  Sir 
Geoffrey,  secure  of  his  bride,  was  less  impatient,  for 
after  all,  the  grandmother's  consent  was  a  mere 
matter  of  form,  although  he  had  reasons  —  upon 
which  he  did  not  care  to  dilate  —  for  wishing  to 
propitiate  the  old  lady,  and  secure  her  good  graces. 

He  came  to  Mayfair  as  frequently  as  his  par- 
liamentary duties  permitted,  and  never  without 
sending  up  to  the  sick-room  the  most  sympathetic 
messages,  accompanied  by  bouquets  of  rare  flowers, 
baskets  of  hothouse  fruit  and  dainty  porcelain  or 
enameled  boxes  of  French  bonbons,  and  his  gifts 
to  Lowton  were  as  lavish,  though  of  a  different 
character. 

Finding  no  abatement  in  her  grandmother's 
austerity,  about  a  week  after  Sir  Geoffrey's  arrival, 
Lady  Prudence  ordered  a  chair,  and  concealing  as 
many  of  her  charms  as  could  be  hidden  by  a  cloak 
and  hood,  made  a  pilgrimage  to  the  city. 

Almost  under  the  shadow  of  Aldgate  Church,  at 
the  entrance  of  a  narrow  court,  of  quiet  appearance 
but  sinister  reputation,  lived  a  certain  Mr.  Moses 
Aarons,  reputed  fabulously  wealthy.  Few  were  the 

28 


THE  MONEY-LENDER  INTERVENES     29 

gay  inheritors  of  paternal  acres  to  whom  the  little 
office  in  Aldgate  was  unfamiliar,  and  in  the  safes 
and  deed-boxes  that  encumbered  the  upper  floors 
of  the  dingy  house  many  a  bond  and  mortgage  told 
a  history  of  vast  estates  held  by  a  hair,  and  noble 
fortunes  of  which  little  remained  but  the  name. 

Mr.  Aarons  was  a  man  of  unpretending  appear- 
ance, with  very  little  about  him  to  suggest  the  Jew 
money-lender.  Immaculately  dressed,  in  a  suit  of 
fine  plum-colored  cloth,  with  silk  stockings  of  the 
same  hue,  and  wearing  his  own  iron-gray  hair 
slightly  powdered,  and  gathered  in  a  black  ribbon, 
he  might  have  passed  for  a  respectable  lawyer  or 
merchant,  had  not  some  suggestion  of  power  in  his 
smooth  voice  and  heavy-lidded  eye,  belied  the  mod- 
esty of  his  appearance. 

The  chair  of  a  fine  lady  was  no  unaccustomed 
object  at  his  door  —  nor,  indeed,  was  the  Vis- 
countess Brooke  a  stranger.  When  his  clerk  bowed 
the  lady  into  Mr.  Aarons'  sanctum,  he  rose  to  greet 
her,  and  returned  her  sweeping  curtsey  with  a  bow 
as  ceremonious. 

"  My  Lady  Brooke !  This  is,  indeed,  a  conde- 
scension," he  said.  "  My  poor  place  is  not  adapted 
for  the  entertainment  of  such  fashion  and  beauty." 

"  Most  excellent  Aarons,"  cried  Prue,  a  little 
haughtily,  "  a  truce  to  your  compliments,  which  are 
only  meant  in  ridicule,  I  fear."  She  threw  back 
her  hood,  however,  not  disdaining  to  try  the  full 
effect  of  her  charms  upon  this  Jew,  from  whom 
she  had  come  to  cajole  a  few  hundred  pounds,  if 
possible,  without  security. 


30         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  Your  ladyship's  long  absence  from  London  hath 
surely  been  to  some  magic  spring,"  said  the  usurer, 
with  an  exaggerated  deference  that  bordered  on  in- 
solence. "  We  heard  you  were  breaking  squires' 
hearts  in  Yorkshire,  but  sure  'twas  some  southern 
sun  that  has  been  ripening  the  peaches  on  your 
cheeks." 

Prue  burst  out  laughing.  "Are  you  turning 
poet,  Mr.  Aarons  ?"  she  inquired  flippantly.  "  Take 
my  advice,  and  keep  to  your  own  trade;  no  one 
will  ever  read  the  verse  of  Shakespeare  or  Milton 
with  half  as  much  interest  as  the  magic  prose  that 
can  turn  a  scrap  of  dirty  paper  into  golden  guineas." 

"  Your  ladyship  is  tired  of  poetry,  and  wishes  for 
a  little  prose  by  way  of  change,  no  doubt,"  suggested 
the  money-lender. 

"  Change,  forsooth !  That  is  just  what  I  am 
perishing  for,"  cried  Prue.  "  Fate  has  been  deal- 
ing me  the  scurviest  tricks,  and  now  the  chance  of 
my  life  has  come,  and  I  tremble  lest  I  lose  it  for 
want  of  a  few  pounds.  The  queen  has  bidden  me 
to  court,  and  I  hope  the  best  from  Her  Majesty's 
condescension.  But,  alas!  I  can  not  make  a  fitting 
appearance  at  court,  for  I  am  —  as  usual  —  penni- 
less. You  must  help  me  out  of  my  troubles,  good 
Mr.  Aarons,  and  this  time  I  shall  pay  you  principal 
and  interest,  and  recover  the  diamond  necklace  that 
has  been  so  long  in  your  care." 

"If  the  security  you  offer  is  no  better  than  last 
time,  my  lady  Viscountess — "  the  money-lender 
began. 

"Alack!  this  time  I  have  nothing  at  all  to  offer 


THE  MONEY-LENDER  INTERVENES     31 

as  security,"  she  interrupted.  "  You  know  where 
most  of  my  jewels  are,  and  on  my  way  from  York- 
shire, I  was  set  upon  by  Robin  Freemantle,  the  high- 
wayman, and  robbed  of  every  thing  he  could  lay  his 
hands  on !  " 

"  The  outrageous  villain !  Did  your  ladyship  lose 
much?"  asked  the  Jew,  with  ill-concealed  sarcasm. 

"  I  scarce  remember  how  much,  but  he  left  me 
with  nothing  but  a  few  worthless  trinkets  I  had 
concealed  in  my  cousin's  jewel-casket,  which  for- 
tunately escaped.  So  I  arrived  in  London  destitute. 
My  grandmother  is  too  ill  to  think  of  aught  but 
prayers  and  potions,  and  I  am  most  anxious  to  return 
to  the  court,  where,  doubtless,  her  Grace  of  Marl- 
borough  will  do  something  for  me  —  she  loves  me 
like  a  daughter  —  but  I  can  not  wait  on  her  grace 
without  a  gown  and  a  carriage." 

"  The  milliner  will,  no  doubt,  be  enchanted  to 
provide  the  one,  and  the  liveryman  the  other,"  said 
Aarons  suavely. 

"  True,  but  every  one  knows  I  was  banished  from 
court,  and  nothing  will  satisfy  them  that  I  am  in 
favor  again  but  to  see  my  name  in  the  Court  News' 
account  of  the  queen's  levee.  I  can  not  get  there 
without  money,  and  for  that  I  look  to  you,  who 
have  stood  my  friend  before.  Now  listen,"  she 
went  on  quickly,  laying  her  little  dimpled  hand 
on  his  arm,  in  her  eagerness  to  interrupt  the  impend- 
ing expostulation.  "  I  am  going  to  be  married  — 
oh,  yes,  I  know  what  you  would  say — 'tis  not  the 
first  time  by  several,  and  I  am  still  the  Widow 
Brooke!  This  time,  however,  you  may  consider  it 


32         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

final;  within  a  month,  I  wed  Sir  Geoffrey  Beau- 
desert." 

The  money-lender  started.  "  Sir  Geoffrey  Beau- 
desert  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Your  creditors,  my  lady 
Viscountess,  will  scarce  be  pleased  at  this  hearing, 
and  may  find  cause  to  remind  you  that  there  are 
lodgings  for  ladies  in  the  Fleet  and  Queen's  Bench. 
Sir  Geoffrey  is  a  member  of  Parliament,  and  can  not 
be  arrested  for  his  own  debts,  let  alone  his  wife's." 

"Arrested!  Do  you  mean  to  suggest  that  Sir 
Geoffrey  can  not,  or  will  not,  pay  my  debts  ?  "  she 
cried  angrily. 

"  He  may  be  willing;  indeed,  who  could  doubt  that 
any  man  would  esteem  it  an  honor  to  pay  the  debts 
of  Lady  Prudence  Brooke?  But  that  he  is  able, 
is  quite  another  matter,  and  you  may  take  my  word 
for  it,  that  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert  couldn't  pay  his 
own  debts,  if  every  acre  he  owned  was  free,  instead 
of  mortgaged,  lock,  stock  and  barrel." 

"  You  are  maligning  a  gentleman,  sir ! "  she  ex- 
claimed, losing  all  control  of  her  temper.  "  I  will 
tell  him  how  you  have  lied  to  me,  and  he  will  have 
his  servants  beat  you  within  an  inch  of  your  life! 
Sir  Geoffrey  a  bankrupt !  —  his  estates  mortgaged ! 
—  was  ever  such  a  slander  ?  He  is  a  man  of  sub- 
stance, I  tell  you.  I  have  visited  him  in  his  ances- 
tral domain,  where  he  entertained  me  royally.  He 
is  lord  of  the  manor,  and  has  the  retinue  of  a 
duke  —  no  man  in  Yorkshire  is  more  highly  re- 
spected—  he  is  M.F.H.  and  might  be  Sheriff  of 
his  Riding  an'  he  chose !  "  She  began  to  subside  a 


THE  MONEY-LENDER  INTERVENES     33 

little,  though  still  angry,  and  looking,  it  must  be 
owned,  transcendently  lovely  in  her  excitement,  with 
cheeks  like  damask  roses,  and  flashing  sapphire 
eyes.  "  Good  Mr.  Aarons,  why  did  you  give  me 
such  a  scare  ?  "  she  went  on,  with  a  ring  of  almost 
entreaty  in  her  tone.  "  Tell  me  you  were  joking. 
What  can  you  know  about  Sir  Geoffrey's  estate? 
He  hath  borrowed  of  you,  mayhap;  who  has  not? 
But  since  he  has  come  into  his  patrimony  — " 

"  His  patrimony,  Lady  Prudence  ?  His  father 
was  one  of  King  James'  most  devoted  followers,  and 
one  of  the  most  lavish  while  a  guinea  could  be  raised 
to  prove  his  loyalty.  Sir  Geoffrey  can  not  cut  a  tree 
in  his  '  ancestral  domain,'  and  you  may  be  sure  there 
was  a  bailiff  or  two  wearing  his  livery  among  the 
ducal  retinue  that  dazzled  your  ladyship." 

"  Mr.  Aarons,  you  must  be  mistaken,"  she  per- 
sisted stubbornly.  "If  his  fortunes  are  so  low, 
why  does  he  seek  to  join  them  to  those  of  a  portion- 
less widow?  Sure,  there  are  heiresses  a-plenty  who 
would  gladly  buy  his  title  with  their  dowries !  " 

"  Oh !  your  ladyship  has  but  to  look  in  your  mir- 
ror to  answer  that  question,"  cried  the  usurer,  with 
a  low  bow  and  a  look  of  open  admiration.  "  There 
are  also  men  of  wealth  and  substance  who  would 
gladly  pay  the  debts  of  Lady  Prudence  Brooke,  and 
settle  such  a  fortune  upon  her  as  would  keep  her 
busy  in  the  spending." 

"  No  doubt,  no  doubt,"  said  Lady  Prudence  hast- 
ily, "  but  I  am  betrothed  to  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert, 
and  these  benevolent  persons  do  not  greatly  interest 


34         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

me.  Let  us  quit  the  subject  of  the  fortunes  Sir 
Geoffrey  and  I  are  throwing  away,  and  return  to 
business." 

"  Yet  believe  me,  Lady  Prudence/'  he  insisted, 
"  you  will  never  wed  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert." 

She  rose  with  great  haughtiness.  "  I  decline  to 
dispute  the  subject  with  you,  Mr.  Aarons — "  she 
began. 

"  You  will  not  marry  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert," 
he  repeated.  "  If  you  do  not  refuse  the  match,  he 
will  find  some  way  to  release  himself;  'tis  his  mis- 
fortune more  than  his  fault.  Mark  me,  Lady  Pru- 
dence, and  do  not  let  him  place  you  in  a  false  posi- 
tion. You  want  to  be  a  rich  woman  as  well  as  a 
great  lady.  You  can  marry  a  man  who  will  give 
you  the  finest  house  in  town,  the  most  splendid  es- 
tablishment, the  choice  of  a  dozen  country  seats,  and 
more  money  to  spend  than  you  have  ever  dreamed 
of,  and  who  asks  nothing  in  return  but  to  see  you 
queen  it  at  his  expense." 

She  smiled  a  little,  and  met  his  glance  with  a 
most  deceptive  air  of  innocent  curiosity. 

"  And  who  is  the  gentleman,  Mr.  Aarons  ?  "  she 
inquired,  in  her  sweetest  tone,  with  but  the  hint 
of  an  emphasis. 

"  Can  you  not  guess  ?  "  he  replied  more  boldly. 

"  Faith,  I  came  hither  seeking  a  money-broker, 
and  was  not  prepared  to  find  a  marriage-broker  in- 
stead ! "  she  said,  shrugging  her  pretty  shoulders. 
"  Do  not  keep  me  in  suspense,  good  Aarons ;  I  am 
dying  to  know  the  name  of  the  admirable  creature 
who  desires  to  rescue  me  from  poverty  —  and  Sir 


THE  MONEY-LENDER  INTERVENES     35 

Geoffrey  —  and  confer  so  many  benefits  upon  my 
unworthiness." 

He  placed  his  hand  upon  his  breast,  and  bowed 
deeply. 

"  You  see  him  here,  fair  Lady  Prudence,"  he  said. 
"  The  humblest  of  slaves,  the  most  ardent  of  ad- 
mirers and,  if  you  will,  the  most  devoted  and  in- 
dulgent of  husbands." 

She  burst  into  a  peal  of  laughter,  but  the  faint 
note  of  bitterness  that  permeated  the  charming 
music  was  not  lost  upon  the  money-lender's  sharp 
ear. 

"  Truly,  Mr.  Aarons,  your  jest  is  subtle  and  well- 
conceived,  and  a  fitting  rebuke  to  my  silly  vanity," 
she  began.  But  he  interrupted  her,  "  In  truth, 
Madam,  'tis  no  jest,  but  a  serious  offer.  I  have  al- 
ways admired  your  ladyship,  and  a  year  ago,  en- 
deavored to  give  fitting  expression  — " 

A  knock  on  the  door  interrupted  his  flow  of  elo- 
quence, and  the  clerk,  from  without,  announced  that 
Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert's  chariot  had  just  driven 
to  the  door,  and  that  "his  Ludship  "  was  in  the  act 
of  alighting. 

"  Great  Heaven ! "  cried  Prue,  turning  scarlet 
and  then  pale.  "  How  shall  I  escape  ?  I  would  not 
be  found  here  by  him  for  a  thousand  pounds !  Do 
not  admit  him,  good  Mr.  Aarons,  I  beseech  you  — " 

"  Take  Sir  Geoffrey  up-stairs,  Jacob,  and  tell  him 
I  am  engaged,  but  will  wait  on  him  anon,"  said  the 
Jew.  Then  turning  to  his  fair  client  with  an  in- 
sinuating smile,  he  added,  "  Now,  if  your  ladyship 
chooses,  you  may  have  an  opportunity  of  judging 


36         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

between  my  statement  of  this  gentleman's  finances 
and  his  own  - 

He  indicated,  by  a  gesture,  a  door  in  an  obscure 
corner  of  the  room. 

"  What !  play  the  spy  upon  my  betrothed  hus- 
band? Never,  never!"  exclaimed  Prue  indig- 
nantly. Yet  she  did  not  go  away,  and  her  pliant 
form  seemed  to  sway  toward  the  little  dark  door, 
as  though  a  stronger  will  than  her  own  controlled 
her  muscles. 

"  'Tis  no  harm,"  said  the  Jew,  in  his  silkiest 
tones,  as  he  opened  the  door  leading  into  a  room 
scarcely  bigger  than  a  closet,  but  light,  and  furnished 
with  a  single  chair,  and  a  table  littered  with  papers 
and  thick  with  dust. 

Half -involuntarily,  Prue  yielded,  and  the  door 
closed  upon  her.  "  I  need  not  listen,"  she  said,  half- 
apologizing  to  herself  for  an  action  she  disdained. 
But  the  room  was  small,  and  that,  perhaps,  was  why 
she  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  move  away  from 
the  door. 

The  blood  rushed  to  her  head  when  she  heard 
Sir  Geoffrey's  voice,  and  for  some  moments  she  was 
conscious  of  nothing  but  a  confused  murmur,  out 
of  which,  at  last,  her  own  name  rang  sharp  and 
clear. 

"  The  Lady  Prudence  Brooke  has  honored  me  by 
accepting  my  hand,"  she  heard  Sir  Geoffrey  say,  in 
a  tone  that  was  evidently  intended  to  discourage 
adverse  comment. 

"  I  congratulate  your  Honor,"  said  Aarons  po- 
litely. "  The  lady's  charms  do  credit  to  your  choice. 


THE  MONEY-LENDER  INTERVENES     37 

But  such  luxuries  are  costly,  and  I  am  not  surprised 
that  you  need  money.  It  is  unfortunate  that  times 
are  so  hard  and  money  so  scarce.  I  have  just  suf- 
fered a  terrible  loss.  The  death  of  Lord  Boscom- 
mon,  whose  father  survives  him,  has  turned  ten 
thousand  pounds'  worth  of  post-obits  into  waste 
paper,  and  the  failure  of  Johnson  and  —  but  this 
does  not  interest  your  Honor.  Beset  as  I  am,  I 
shall  be  able  to  accommodate  an  old  and  valued 
client  like  yourself,  no  doubt,  if  the  security  is  satis- 
factory. You  have  good  security  to  offer,  of 
course  ?  " 

"  Oh !  it  is  no  use  beating  about  the  bush  with 
you,  Aarons.  I  have  no  fresh  security,  but  you  can 
surely  let  me  have  a  couple  of  thousand  more  on 
the  Yorkshire  estate." 

"  Not  a  stiver,"  said  the  money-lender  firmly. 
"  Even  the  entailed  property  is  encumbered  beyond 
its  utmost  value.  Had  you  come  to  announce  your 
marriage  with  Miss  Cheeseman,  the  Alderman's 
daughter,  or  Mrs.  Goldthwaite,  the  banker's  widow, 
I  do  not  say  I  would  have  refused  the  necessary 
funds  for  the  courtship  and  wedding  on  your  note- 
of-hand.  But  the  Viscountess  Brooke  is  dower- 
less  —  over  head  and  ears  in  debt,  and  without  a 
penny  of  expectations." 

"  Miserable  little  Jew,"  muttered  the  fair  dame 
he  so  pitilessly  anatomized ;  "  Geoffrey  will  kill  him." 

"  Dowerless,  yes ;  over  head  and  ears  in  debt,  pos- 
sibly; but  not  without  expectations,"  said  Sir 
Geoffrey,  displaying  none  of  the  anticipated  fury. 
"  You  overlook  the  fact  that  she  is  the  favorite 


38         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

granddaughter  of  Lady  Drumloch,  who,  for  all 
her  miserly  ways,  I  am  credibly  informed,  is  enor- 
mously wealthy." 

"  Oho!  "  cried  the  Jew,  maliciously  enjoying  this 
display  of  a  motive  not  altogether  flattering  to  the 
unsuspected  listener.  "  Your  Honor  is  not  quite  so 
simple  as  I  began  to  fear." 

"  Did  you  really  think  I  was  fool  enough 
to  leap  before  looking?  "  retorted  Sir  Geoffrey,  with 
a  fatuous  laugh  that  set  Prue's  ears  tingling. 
"  To  be  sure,  the  wealth  of  Golconda  could  not  add 
to  the  Lady  Prue's  charms,  but  in  this  wicked 
world  one  can  not  live  on  love,  and  as  I  have  little 
else  to  offer,  I  rejoice,  for  her  sake  as  well  as  my 
own,  that  she  has  a  rich  grandmother,  who  can  not, 
it  is  to  be  hoped  —  I  should  say,  lamented  —  live 
long  to  enjoy  her  hoards.  They  will,  I  am  con- 
vinced, be  put  to  excellent  use  by  Lady  Prudence 
Beaudesert." 

"  But  how,  if  I  could  prove  to  you,  Sir  Geoffrey, 
that  Lady  Drumloch,  instead  of  being  a  rich  miser, 
is  a  very  poor  old  woman,  whose  kinsman  loans  her 
a  house  to  live  in,  and  whose  sole  income  is  an  an- 
nuity, from  which  she  has  —  perhaps  —  saved 
enough  to  bury  her?  I  know  not  who  may  have 
told  you  of  this  fabled  wealth,  but  I  am  pretty  sure 
it  is  not  either  of  her  granddaughters." 

"  Indeed,  no,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey  reflectively. 
"  No  such  sordid  subject  has  ever  been  broached 
between  us.  Yet  I  had  it  from  a  reliable  source." 

"  Well,  I  advise  you  to  make  very  sure  of  it,  Sir 
Geoffrey;  it  will  be  no  kindness,  either  to  yourself 


THE  MONEY-LENDER  INTERVENES     39 

or  the  Lady  Prudence,  to  marry  her  without  either 
of  you  having  anything  you  can  call  your  own  — 
except  your  debts." 

"Tis  true,"  muttered  the  baronet.  "If  I  can 
not  raise  a  thousand  pounds  —  are  Lady  Prudence's 
debts  so  very  great  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  betray  the  secrets  of  one  client  to  an- 
other," said  Aarons,  with  a  sinister  smile.  "  Even 
now  I  have  acted  against  my  own  interests  in  my 
desire  to  befriend  two  headstrong  young  people. 
Nay,  I  would  gladly  go  further,  and  find  a  rich 
wife  for  your  Honor  and  a  rich  husband  for  the 
viscountess,  if  you  would  both  listen  to  reason." 

"  Thanks,  good  Aarons,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  mov- 
ing toward  the  door;  "  I  appreciate  your  good  will 
at  its  full  value.  A  rich  wife  —  of  your  providing 
—  to  pay  my  debts,  and  a  rich  husband,  on  the  same 
terms,  for  Lady  Prudence,  would  make  four  fools 
for  the  benefit  of  one  wise  man." 

"  Your  Honor  flatters  me !  "  said  Aarons  obsequi- 
ously. They  passed  out  of  the  room  together,  and 
as  he  closed  the  door  behind  him,  the  money-lender 
remarked,  in  the  most  casual  manner,  "  I  had  a 
visit  from  the  lady  but  an  hour  agone,  praying  me 
for  a  loan  of  a  few  hundred  pounds,  at  any  interest, 
on  the  strength  of  her  approaching  marriage  with 
your  Honor." 

Sir  Geoffrey  started,  and  a  curious  light  came  into 
his  cold,  handsome  eyes. 

"  'Sdeath!  "  he  ejaculated,  "  the  lady  doth  me  too 
much  honor !  " 

"  I  was  most  reluctantly  compelled  to  refuse  the 


40         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

loan,  for  the  same  reason  that  she  gave  for  request- 
ing it,"  said  the  usurer,  as  he  respectfully  bowed 
his  visitor  out.  "  But  in  the  meantime,  if  I  can 
serve  you  in  any  other  direction,  pray  command 
me." 

When  he  returned  alone,  newfound  Lady  Prudence 
arranging  her  hood  with  a  weary  air. 

"  Prithee,  Mr.  Aarons,  is  my  chair  at  the  door  ?  " 
she  demanded,  cutting  short  his  apologies  for  de- 
taining her.  "  You  and  your  client  have  well-nigh 
sent  me  to  sleep  with  your  lo^ng  conference.  Sure, 
you  have  kept  me  shut  up  in  the  j:upboard,  while 
you  transacted  the  business  of  aNiflzen  petitioners." 

"  Your  ladyship  was  probably  unable  to  overhear 
our  conversation  ? "  he  retorted,  with  a  shrewd 
smile.  "  'Tis  a  pity,  for  it  would  have  interested 
you  vastly." 

"  Did  you,  indeed,  think  I  would  condescend  to 
listen  at  the  keyhole  ?  "  cried  Prue,  with  a  superb 
air  of  disdain.  "  Believe  me,  I  do  not  take  quite 
so  much  interest  in  the  clients  of  Mr.  Aarons!  Is 
my  chair  at  the  door?  Then  let  me  begone.  My 
grandmother  will  marvel  at  my  absence,  and  ask 
more  questions  than  I  shall  be  able  to  invent  an- 
swers to." 

The  Jew  accompanied  her  out  to  her  chair,  bare- 
headed, and  as  he  handed  her  in,  said,  in  his  voice  of 
curiously  blended  humility  and  power,  "  I  shall  hear 
from  your  ladyship  again,  when  you  and  Sir 
Geoffrey  have  had  time  for  reflection." 


CHAPTER  V 

A  WIDOW  ON  MONDAY 

THAT  day  was  destined  to  be  one  of  accumu- 
lated trials  to  Prue's  patience.  Her  ruf- 
fled temper  had  scarcely  calmed  down  by  the  time 
she  reached  home,  and  found  that,  during  her  ab- 
sence, communications  had  been  received  from  the 
attorneys  of  various  tradespeople,  warning  her  that 
Mr.  Aarons'  view  of  her  position  was  by  no  means 
exaggerated. 

Although  she  had  rigidly  refrained  from  an- 
nouncing her  projected  marriage,  in  deference  to 
Lady  Drumloch's  opposition,  the  news  had  crept 
out  in  the  mysterious  way  such  things  have  of  pro- 
claiming themselves,  and  had  led  to  a  general  in- 
vestigation of  Sir  Geoffrey's  solvency,  by  those 
whose  only  hope  of  payment  depended  upon  her 
future  husband's  wealth.  The  immediate  result  of 
these  researches  displayed  itself  in  the  unanimous 
determination  of  her  creditors  to  be  paid  before  she 
could  shelter  herself  under  the  coverture  of  a  hus- 
band whose  parliamentary  privileges  placed  him 
out  of  their  reach. 

This  blow  was  the  more  crushing  because  it  came 
from  those  who  had  encouraged  her  extravagance 
and  played  upon  her  vanity  while  she  was  the  favor- 
ite of  the  all-powerful  Duchess  of  Marlborough,  and 
41 


42         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

lady-in-waiting  to  the  queen.  Then,  every  tempta- 
tion was  thrown  in  her  way,  and  the  day  of  reckon- 
ing was  never  mentioned,  unless  in  sly  allusion  to 
the  dazzling,  ever-changing  panorama  of  her  matri- 
monial prospects. 

But,  now,  circumstances  were  different.  To  tell 
the  truth,  the  fair  viscountess  had  left  London  a 
year  ago  under  the  cloud  of  royal  displeasure.  Her 
extravagance  at  the  card-table  and  elsewhere,  her 
mad-cap  frolics  and  countless  flirtations  —  culmi- 
nating in  a  fatal  duel  and  a  brilliant  engagement 
broken  off  almost  at  the  church-door  —  had 
brought  upon  her  a  sharp  rebuke  from  the  queen, 
coupled  with  a  command  to  seek  time  for  reflection 
and  penitence  in  some  retreat  far  enough  removed 
from  the  court  to  relieve  her  of  its  temptations. 

Under  this  ban,  she  had  thrown  herself  upon  the 
hospitality  of  her  brother-in-law,  himself  somewhat 
out  of  favor,  in  consequence  of  his  Jacobite  ten- 
dencies, and  living  in  comparative  seclusion  upon 
his  heavily  mortgaged  estate  in  Yorkshire.  There, 
Prue  had  held  a  little  court  of  fox-hunting  squires 
and  provincial  notables,  until,  wearying  for  a  more 
congenial  atmosphere,  she  gladly  seized  upon  the 
illness  of  her  grandmother  as  an  excuse  for  a  hasty 
and  unheralded  visit  to  London,  where  her  bosom 
friend,  Lady  Barbara  Sweeting,  having  paved  the 
way  for  her,  met  her  with  the  delightful  news  that 
her  escapades  were  forgotten  and  her  absence  be- 
wailed, and  being  on  the  spot,  her  unauthorized  re- 
turn would  meet  with  no  severe  reprimand,  but 
rather  with  a  joyous  welcome. 


A  WIDOW  ON  MONDAY  43 

Prue  knew  the  advantage  of  striking  while  the 
iron  is  hot.  She  was  well  aware  of  the  fickleness  of 
the  great,  and  the  importance  of  catching  the  smile 
of  royalty  before  it  has  had  time  to  cool  off  into 
a  frown.  So,  being  assured  that  the  hand  of  wel- 
come was  graciously  beckoning  her,  it  did  seem  the 
irony  of  fate  that  she  must  needs  hang  back  because 
her  wardrobe  was  in  Yorkshire,  and  her  chance  of 
redeeming  or  replacing  it  even  more  distant. 

At  this  exasperating  crisis,  it  was  only  natural 
that  her  mind  should  revert  persistently  to  the  one 
spot  of  light  in  the  gloom.  Was  it  a  beacon  of  hope 
or  an  illusory  will-o'-the-wisp?  Had  Sir  Geoffrey 
been  misled,  or  was  he  trying  to  mislead  Mr. 
Aarons  ? 

"  Can  grannie  really  be  a  miser?  "  she  had  asked 
both  herself  and  Peggie  a  dozen  times  in  the  course 
of  the  day.  She  longed  to  question  Sir  Geoffrey 
as  to  the  source  of  his  information,  yet  dared  not 
reveal  the  little  she  knew,  for  fear  he  might  wonder 
how  she  had  come  by  that  little. 

Peggie  laughed  heartily  at  the  suggestion  of  Lady 
Drumloch's  wealth,  and  vowed  it  must  be  a  myth. 
"  Could  she  have  kept  such  a  secret  from  us  for  all 
these  years  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Never  once  giving  us 
a  hint  of  it,  and  never  once  relaxing  the  austerity  of 
her  life,  even  now  she  is  old  and  sick?  Besides, 
how  would  it  help  us  now,  if  she  had  a  cellar  full 
of  gold,  since  she  will  not  give  us  a  guinea  or  a 
gown  ?  You  have  so  many  friends,  Prue ;  will  none 
of  them  help  you  out?  " 

"  The  women  will  not  help  me ;  they  are  only 


44         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

too  glad  to  keep  me  out  in  the  cold,"  said  Prue 
pettishly,  "  and  I  am  neither  old  enough  nor  ugly 
enough,  to  ask  favors  of  a  man,  even  a  money- 
lender," she  added,  contemptuously  reminiscent  of 
Mr.  Aarons'  advances.  "Pray,  open  the  window, 
coz.  These  distracting  cares  make  me  so  faint, 
I  feel  as  though  I  should  die  for  lack  of  air." 

Peggie  obeyed,  and  Prue,  seating  herself  near 
the  window,  gradually  ceased  her  lamentations  and 
fell  silent.  The  outside  noises  floated  up  confus- 
edly—  the  roll  of  a  passing  carriage,  the  quarrel- 
some shouts  of  waiting  chairmen,  and  clear  above 
all,  the  voice  of  the  newsman,  calling  the  details  of 
yesterday's  cock-fight  and  the  latest  scandal. 

"  Rumor  of  a  great  battle  in  the  Netherlands  — 
Arrival  of  a  queen's  courier  with  sealed  despatches 
from  the  seat  of  war  —  Exciting  scene  in  the 
House  of  Commons  —  Threatened  resignation  of 
Lord  Godolphin  from  the  Cabinet  —  Trial  and  sen- 
tence of  Robin  Freemantle,  the  highwayman. 
Story  of  his  Life  and  confessions  —  How  he  fell 
from  virtue  and  respectability  to  end  his  days  on 
Tyburn  Tree  next  Monday." 

"  Dost  thou  hear  that,  Peggie  ?  "  cried  Prue ; 
"  the  bold  highwayman  who  kissed  me  on  Bleak- 
moor  is  condemned  to  die  for  other  crimes,  per- 
chance less  heinous !  " 

"  'Tis  a  natural  death  for  such  as  he,"  quoth 
Peggie  philosophically. 

"  And  yet,  he  was  a  gallant  man ;  young,  I'll  be 
sworn,  and  handsome,  belike.  It  seems  strange  to 


A  WIDOW  ON  MONDAY  45 

think  that  such  hot  blood  will  be  cold  in  the  veins 
of  a  corpse  in  less  than  a  week  — " 

"  Art  going  to  wear  weeds  for  him,  coz,  because 
he  snatched  a  kiss  from  you?  "  teased  Peggie. 

"  Not  I !  but  mayhap  some  poor  wretch  is  break- 
ing her  heart  because  she'll  be  a  widow  o'  Monday," 
said  Prue  pensively. 

"  All  her  debts  will  be  paid  along  with  the  debt 
of  nature,"  said  Peggie  flippantly.  "  Don't  you 
think  you  could  easily  console  yourself  in  her  case?  " 

"  Forsooth,  yes ! "  cried  Prue,  quickly  recover- 
ing her  vivacity.  "  I  would  I  were  like  to  be  the 
widow  of  somebody  —  somebody  I  don't  care  for, 
of  course  —  within  a  week.  Then  I  could  laugh  at 
that  old  villain  Aarons,  and  the  rest  of  the  pettifog- 
gers, with  their  threats  of  the  debtors'  prison! 
Sure,  there  must  be  a  special  hell  for  Jews  and  law- 
yers!" 

Peggie  gave  her  hearty  acquiescence  and  returned 
to  her  book,  and  for  some  time  no  sound  was  heard 
except  an  occasional  smothered  laugh,  when  Mr. 
Pope's  highly-spiced  rhymes  tickled  her  fancy  more 
than  usual.  Prue  fell  into  a  somber  reverie,  and 
with  the  tip  of  her  taper  finger  between  her  teeth, 
became  so  buried  in  thought,  that  a  sharp  little  line 
began  to  trace  itself  distinctly  between  her  drawn 
brows.  Outside,  the  newsman's  voice,  gradually 
fading  in  the  distance,  still  repeated,  "  Buy  the  life 
and  confessions  of  Robin  Freemantle,  the  notorious 
highwayman  —  only  sixpence." 

Prue  sprang  to  her  feet,  at  last.     "  Margaret !  " 


46         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

she  exclaimed,  and  her  voice  had  a  curiously  un- 
familiar ring. 

Her  cousin  started.  Prue  had  not  called  her  by 
her  full  name  in  many  a  day. 

"Margaret,  if  this  highwayman  has  no  wife  — 
people  of  that  sort  don't  marry,  usually  —  what  is 
to  prevent  his  marrying  me,  and  leaving  me  a 
widow  on  Monday,  with  all  my  debts  buried  in  his 
coffin?" 

Peggie  had  been  so  often  participator  and  prime 
minister  of  Prue's  exploits,  that  she  was  not  easily 
astonished  by  her.  But  this  proposition  was  so 
entirely  ouside  the  bounds  of  reason,  that  she  could 
only  shake  her  head  vigorously,  without  even  a 
word  of  protest. 

"  'Tis  not  so  reckless  as  it  seems,  Peggie,"  said 
Prue,  sitting  down  beside  her  and  passing  a  coax- 
ing arm  round  her  shoulders.  "  Listen,  dear  Peg. 
The  man  must  die ;  God's  pity  on  him !  What  can 
it  matter  to  me  to  be  his  wife  for  a  few  hours; 
what  can  it  matter  to  him  to  ease  me  of  my  debts? 
They  will  not  trouble  him  in  the  next  world ;  neither 
will  /." 

"  You'll  be  none  the  richer  for  such  a  mad  freak," 
Peggie  remonstrated. 

"  I'll  be  out  of  danger  of  the  Fleet,  though !  " 
cried  Prue,  renewing  her  caresses.  "  Fancy  your 
poor  little  cousin  in  a  debtors'  prison,  Peggie,  with 
all  sorts  of  wretches  who  can  not  pay  their  butchers 
and  bakers  —  and  miserable  cheats  and  swindlers. 
so  mean  and  low  that  they  have  not  a  soul  to  help 
them  —  and  fancy  me  just  as  ill-off  and  forlorn  as 


A  WIDOW  ON  MONDAY  47 

they !  "  Peggie  began  to  melt.  "  You  saw  that 
letter  from  Madame  Taffetine's  lawyer,  '  Unless 
we  receive  the  payment,  so  frequently  promised, 
within  forty-eight  hours,  the  law  will  be  enforced 
without  any  further  delay.'  The  other  man  is  even 
more  explicit;  he  threatens  me  with  imprisonment 
in  so  many  words!  Oh!  Peggie,  I  am  the  most 
miserable  girl  in  the  world !  " 

"  Sir  Geoffrey  will  marry  you,  and  you  will  both 
be  safe  and  happy,"  counseled  Peggie. 

"  Sir  Geoffrey !  I'm  not  so  sure  I  wouldn't 
rather  marry  the  highwayman !  "  cried  Prue.  "  At 
any  rate,  I  can  not  offer  myself  to  him,  and  I 
doubt  if  he  be  in  the  mood  to  hurry  me.  Besides, 
there's  like  to  be  a  dissolution  of  Parliament,  and 
then  he'll  be  in  a  worse  plight  than  I  am  now.  'Tis 
true,"  she  laughed,  but  not  quite  merrily,  "  there 
is  Mr.  Aarons,  who  was  kind  enough  to  place  his 
hand  and  his  money-bags  at  my  feet,  but  the  doors 
that  are  open  to  the  poor  Viscountess  Brooke,  might 
be  slammed  in  the  face  of  the  rich  Lady  Prudence 
Aarons !  " 

"  Robin  Freemantle  would  be  better  than  Mr. 
Aarons,"  Peggie  conceded. 

"  Robin  Freemantle,  at  this  moment,  will  do  bet- 
ter than  any  one  else,"  said  Prue.  "  I  tell  you, 
Peggie,  my  mind  is  made  up.  You  may  as  well 
help  me,  for  if  you  don't,  I'll  do  it  all  alone  —  but 
you  won't  desert  me,  will  you,  Peggie,  dearest  ?  " 
So,  with  tears  and  kisses  and  wiles  most  varied,  but 
all  through  with  a  stubborn  self-will  that  had  often 
before  subdued  Peggie's  feeble  scruples,  Prue 


48         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

won  her  at  last,  not  merely  as  a  confidante,  but  as 
an  accomplice. 

As  soon  as  the  whimsical  creature  found  that 
there  was  nothing  to  fear  from  her  cousin's  opposi- 
tion, her  spirits  rose  at  the  prospect  of  an  adventure 
even  more  reckless  and  madcap  than  usual.  She 
ran  on  with  a  thousand  absurd  suggestions,  until 
Peggie,  infected  by  her  mood,  offered  to  visit  the 
prison  at  Newgate,  and  lay  Prue's  proposal  be- 
fore the  highwayman. 

"  You  know,  you  told  him  I  was  your  maid,"  she 
said,  "  and  'tis  one  of  a  maid's  chief  duties  to  carry 
messages  for  her  mistress;  messages  of  doubtful 
discretion  especially.  I  can  remind  him  of  the 
meeting  on  Bleakmoor,  and  introduce  myself  as 
having  witnessed  the  kiss  which  ignited  a  flame  in 
your  heart,  that  can  only  be  quenched  by  a  marriage 
in  extremis." 

"  Make  use  of  what  arguments  you  please,  Peg, 
and  for  credential,  take  with  you  the  purse  he  be- 
stowed in  charity  on  the  poor  widow,  who  now  im- 
plores a  still  greater  favor  from  him.  Alack!  the 
purse  is  well-nigh  empty,  but  there's  enough  left 
in  it  to  bribe  the  jailers  to  admit  a  lady  of  high 
degree,  who  comes  to  find  out  if  the  condemned 
man  can  put  her  in  the  way  to  recover  the  jewelry 
she  was  robbed  of  on  the  Queen's  Highway." 

"  To-day  is  Thursday,  Prue,"  said  Peggie,  pro- 
ceeding to  prepare  for  her  errand  without  delay. 
"  Thou'lt  not  wed  o'  Friday  ?  'Tis  unlucky !  " 

"  Unlucky !  Dost  think  there's  any  luck,  good  or 
ill,  about  such  a  marriage  ?  "  cried  Prue,  dropping 


A  WIDOW  ON  MONDAY  49 

suddenly  into  a  shuddering  despondency.  "  Friday 
is  as  good  a  day  as  any  for  one's  undoing,  and 
Saturday's  too  long ;  'twould  give  me  time  to  change 
my  mind." 

"  There's  time  enough  for  that  now,"  quoth  Peg- 
gie philosophically.  "  The  banns  are  not  yet  asked, 
nor  even  the  wooing  sped.  'Twere  wiser,  perhaps, 
to  repent  to-day  than  regret  to-morrow." 

"  Do  you  think  so,  Peggie?  So  do  not  I.  If  I 
do  have  to  repent,  it  shall  not  be  for  an  opportunity 
missed  for  a  coward  scruple.  Here,  let  me  tie  this 
long,  black  veil  over  your  hood,  Peg;  it  will  make 
you  look  like  a  mourner,  and  with  your  handker- 
chief to  your  face,  you  might  defy  even  the  sharp 
eyes  of  Lowton  herself." 


CHAPTER  VI 

A  MATTER  OF  TITLE 

AS  Peggie,  veiled  and  muffled  up,  with  the  cur- 
tains of  her  sedan-chair  drawn — but  not 
closely  enough  to  interfere  with  her  outlook  —  was 
borne  toward  the  city,  she  passed  a  handsome 
chariot,  driven  rapidly  in  the  opposite  direction. 

The  glimpse  she  caught  of  the  occupants  caused 
her  great  amusement.  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert 
was  seated  beside  a  young  man,  richly  dressed  and 
handsome,  but  sallow  and  hollow-cheeked.  This 
was  Lord  Beachcombe,  whose  marriage  with  Lady 
Prudence  Brooke  had  been  abruptly  broken  off  about 
a  year  ago,  in  consequence  of  a  scandal  raised  by  a 
certain  Captain  O'Keefe,  who  considered  himself 
ill-used  by  the  lady,  and  whose  insulting  strictures 
upon  her  conduct  led  to  a  fatal  duel  with  Sir 
Geoffrey,  and  resulted  in  the  promise  of  her  hand 
to  the  champion  of  her  honor.  The  sight  of  Prue's 
former  and  present  lovers  together,  struck  Peggie 
as  particularly  funny,  in  connection  with  her  own 
queer  errand.  If  she  could  have  overheard  their 
conversation,  it  would  have  given  additional  zest 
to  the  situation. 

"  Faith,"  Lord  Beachcombe  was  saying,  "if  you 
are  really  bent  on  marrying  the  lovely  widow,  I 
wish  you  better  luck  than  I  had." 

5° 


A  MATTER  OF  TITLE  51 

"  I  am  bent  on  it,  with  my  whole  heart  and  soul," 
Sir  Geoffrey  replied,  doggedly  rather  than  enthusi- 
astically. "  I  am  not  a  man  to  be  turned  from  my 
purpose  by  an  idle  word." 

The  other  laughed  carelessly.  "  No  man  in  your 
condition  takes  warning  by  other  men's  misfor- 
tunes," he  remarked.  "  But  there's  still  hope  for 
you;  you  are  not  her  husband  yet." 

"  No,  but  I  swear  I  will  be,  and  soon,  too! "  ex- 
claimed Sir  Geoffrey.  "  I  won  her  at  the  sword's 
point,  and  by  the  God  above  us,  I'll  wear  her!  " 

"  Will  you  bet  ? "  demanded  the  other,  with  a 
sneer.  Gambling  was  the  most  fashionable  vice  of 
that  day,  and  few  subjects  were  too  great  or  too 
small  to  hang  a  wager  upon. 

"  Aye,  Lord  Beachcombe,  if  you  want  to  lose 
money,  I'll  not  deny  you  the  opportunity,"  laughed 
Sir  Geoffrey,  recovering  his  good  humor.  "  What 
do  you  want  to  wager?  Fifty  guineas?  a  hun- 
dred?" 

"  Fifty  or  a  hundred  guineas  is  all  too  small  a 
wager  for  so  important  a  matter,"  said  Lord  Beach- 
combe  slowly,  as  though  considering  the  exact  sum 
demanded  by  the  occasion.  "  Let  us  say  a  thou- 
sand —  or  five  thousand." 

Sir  Geoffrey  was  staggered  by  the  amount,  but 
he  was  as  ardent  a  gambler  as  his  companion,  and 
reputed  a  much  luckier  one.  "  As  your  lordship 
pleases,"  he  replied,  with  well-assumed  indifference. 
"  But  I  warn  you  that  the  higher  the  stake,  the  more 
certain  I  shall  be  to  win  it,  even  if  I  have  to  carry 
the  lady  off  by  force." 


52         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  Oh !  if  you  have  to  resort  to  force  — " 

"  If  I  have  to  resort  to  force,  the  stake  should  be 
doubled !  "  exclaimed  Sir  Geoffrey,  "  but  I  have  no 
fear  of  that.  Did  your  lordship  say  a  thousand? 
or  was  it  five  ?  " 

"  Let  it  be  five  thousand,"  returned  Beachcombe. 
"  I'll  wager  five  thousand  guineas  that  you  do  not 
marry  the  Viscountess  Brooke  within  —  shall  we 
say  a  month  ?  " 

Sir  Geoffrey  signified  his  satisfaction;  each  gen- 
tleman made  a  memorandum  of  the  bet,  and  as  the 
carriage  had  already  been  standing  some  minutes  at 
Prue's  door,  her  betrothed  alighted,  thanked  his 
friend  for  his  courtesy  in  giving  him  a  lift,  and 
hastened  in  to  press  his  suit  with  renewed  ardor. 

As  the  carriage  was  driven  off  Lord  Beachcombe 
pulled  the  check-string  and  ordered  the  coachman  to 
drive  with  all  speed  to  Newgate  Prison. 

Newgate  Prison,  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne,  was 
a  festering  sink  of  iniquity  and  horror.  Almost 
every  crime  under  the  sun  was  punishable  by 
death  —  from  stealing  a  penny  loaf  to  robbing  a 
church,  and  from  snaring  a  pheasant  to  slaughter- 
ing a  family.  In  fact  the  laws  in  relation  to  prop- 
erty were  far  more  strictly  enforced  than  those  for 
the  protection  of  human  life,  unless  the  value  of 
the  life  was  enhanced  by  the  rights  of  property. 
There,  in  noisome  pens,  criminals  of  every  degree 
herded  together  —  men,  women  and  children  —  all 
brought  to  an  equality  under  the  shadow  of  the 
gallows.  But  money  was  just  as  powerful  there  as 


53 

anywhere  else,  and  the  prisoner  who  could  pay 
might  have  privacy,  company,  the  best  of  food  and 
wine  —  everything  except  cleanliness  —  that  no 
power  could  bring  into .  Newgate  Prison,  and  it 
needed  the  cleansing  fires  of  destruction  to  purge 
it  off  the  face  of  the  earth. 

Robin  Freemantle,  the  condemned  highwayman, 
had  money  enough  to  secure  him  a  cell  to  himself. 
One  of  the  poorer  prisoners,  for  a  consideration, 
had  swept  it  out,  and  he  had  hired  a  table  and  chair 
from  the  jailer  at  about  twice  the  price  for  which 
they  had  been  bought  ten  years  ago. 

At  his  table  he  sat  writing,  with  a  bottle  of  wine 
at  his  elbow,  and  the  debris  of  a  substantial  meal  on 
a  tray.  Through  a  barred  window  above  his  head 
enough  light  slunk  reluctantly  in  to  show  the  fine 
athletic  form  and  bronzed,  manly  face,  on  which 
the  pallor  of  imprisonment  was  already  toning  down 
the  ruddy  glow  of  health.  On  the  page  before  him 
he  had  inscribed  but  four  words,  at  which  he  sat 
gazing  irresolutely  while  he  nibbled  the  feather  of 
his  pen.  The  key  turned  in  the  lock  and  a  hoarse 
voice  outside  announced,  "  A  visitor  for  you,  Robin 
Highwayman." 

Lord  Beachcombe  walked  in,  and  the  door  closed 
behind  him. 

Robin  rose.  "  Welcome,  my  Lord,"  he  said,  with 
an  unmistakable  ring  of  relief  in  his  tone.  "  Your 
promptitude  will  do  us  both  a  good  turn." 

"  I  received  your  letter,  fellow,"  said  the  other 
haughtily,  "  and  I  confess  I  was  curious  to  learn 
how  a  man  of  education  had  fallen  to  your  condi- 


54         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

tion."  His  eye  glanced  upon  Robin's  left  arm, 
which  he  wore  in  a  sling,  as  though  he  marveled  why 
it  had  been  thought  worth  while  to  mend  a  collar- 
bone upon  which  the  neck  was  set  so  insecurely. 

"  Take  this  chair,  my  Lord.  I  have  but  one  in 
my  spacious  apartment.  I'll  sit  here."  He  moved 
to  the  cot  and  his  visitor  sat  down,  not  without 
some  show  of  reluctance. 

"And  now,  be  brief,"  said  Lord  Beachcombe, 
watching  him  narrowly,  "and  let  me  know  the 
service  you  wish  to  render  me  " —  with  a  sneer  — 
"  and  the  price  you  expect  for  it.  I  do  not  remem- 
ber ever  having  been  waylaid  by  you,  so  you  can 
not  have  stolen  jewels  to  restore." 

"  Yet  your  lordship  has  some  idea  of  what  I  have 
to  offer  —  not  to  restore,  for  you  never  possessed 
it  —  and  if  I  die  on  Monday,  will  never  know  the  full 
worth  of  it  until  too  late.  Your  lordship  has  a  law- 
suit pending  involving  your  title  and  estate — " 

"  Every  one  knows  that,"  said  Beachcombe  irri- 
tably. "  Some  mysterious  person  has  claimed  to 
be  my  elder  brother.  The  thing  is  manifestly  im- 
possible, but  he  appears  to  have  interested  a  lawyer 
of  sorts." 

"  The  thing  is  not  impossible,  Lord  Beachcombe. 
It  is  true.  It  is  also  true  that  this  claimant  can  de- 
prive you  not  only  of  your  title  and  estates,  but  of 
your  very  name." 

"You  are  mad!  If  such  a  thing  were  possible, 
what  is  it  to  you,  and  how  can  you  know  anything 
about  it?" 

•"Because  all  the  papers  are  in  my  possession. 


A  MATTER  OF  TITLE  55 

Oh !  not  here  —  in  perfectly  safe  keeping ;  where 
they  will  remain  until  I  die,  or  claim  them  back." 

"How  came  they  in  your  possession?"  de- 
manded Beachcombe.  "  In  robbing  a  coach,  I 
suppose  you  took  them  for  something  valuable." 

"  They  came  into  my  possession  by  the  action  of 
Providence,  to  afford  your  lordship  the  chance  of 
giving  me  my  life  and  keeping  your  own  honorable 
name." 

"  Your  life,  my  good  fellow !  You  overrate  my 
power  and  your  own  value.  If  your  papers  are 
worth  anything,  I'll  give  you  all  the  money  you 
ask  for  your  own  spending,  and  the  provision  of 
those  you  leave  behind  — " 

"  We'll  come  to  that  presently,"  said  Robin. 
"  First,  I'll  tell  you  what  I  have  to  offer.  Some 
thirty  years  ago  —  while  His  Majesty  King  Charles 
was  on  the  throne  —  a  certain  lieutenant  of  the 
Guards,  younger  son  of  a  great  earl's  younger 
brother,  fell  in  love  with  a  poor  schoolmaster's  pretty 
daughter.  Passing  himself  off  as  a  stage-player, 
under  the  name  of  Gregory  Vincent,  he  won  the 
young  woman's  affection,  though  not,  apparently, 
her  complete  confidence;  for  she  went  to  the  pains 
of  investigating  the  gentleman's  private  life,  and 
discovered  his  real  name.  Then  she  consented  to  a 
secret  marriage,  at  which  she  substituted  a  real 
priest  and  legal  papers  for  the  sham  ones  with 
which  her  honorable  lover  had  intended  to  cozen 
her." 

"  This  story  has  already  been  communicated  to 
my  attorneys,"  interrupted  Lord  Beachcombe  im- 


56         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

patiently.  "  How  are  you  acquainted  with  it,  and 
why  do  you  expect  it  to  interest  me  in  you?  " 

"  I  know  it  because  a  vast  number  of  letters, 
written  by  this  gentleman,  first  to  his  sweetheart 
and  afterward  to  his  wife,  have  fallen  into  my 
hands.  They  tell  the  whole  history,  with  many 
entertaining  details,  and  would  prove  racy  reading 
in  the  News  sheet  for  your  lordship's  friends  and 
foes,  especially  the  latter." 

The  visitor  winced.  "  No  man  likes  his  family 
affairs  held  up  to  ridicule,"  he  said.  "  I  would 
willingly  buy  the  letters,  if  genuine." 

"  Oh !  they  are  genuine ;  also  the  marriage  cer- 
tificate, whereof  one  of  the  witnesses  is  still  living, 
and  the  certificates  of  the  birth  and  baptism  of  the 
son,  now  twenty-eight  years  old.  I  believe  your 
lordship  is  twenty-six  ?  " 

"  And  why  has  this  matter  been  allowed  to  sleep 
for  thirty  years  ?  " 

"  Because  Mrs.  Vincent  —  as  she  temporarily  al- 
lowed herself  to  be  called  —  although  clever  enough 
to  find  out  that  her  stage-player  lover  was  really 
a  lieutenant  of  the  King's  Guards,  masquerading 
under  a  false  name,  was  unable  to  trace  him  when 
he  disappeared,  a  year  after  their  marriage,  and 
never  knew  that  in  consequence  of  several  deaths, 
he  had  become  Lord  Beachcombe,  of  whom  she 
probably  never  heard,  and  certainly  never  con- 
nected with  Lieutenant  Gregory  de  Cliffe.  The 
last  of  this  series  of  documents  is  the  certificate 
of  the  death  of  the  deserted  wife,  when  her  son 
was  about  five  years  old,  to  whom  she  bequeathed 


A  MATTER  OF  TITLE  57 

only  her  wedding-ring  and  a  casket,  which  was  to 
be  opened  when  he  came  to  man's  estate." 

Lord  Beachcombe's  sallow  face  crimsoned  with 
such  a  rush  of  blood,  that  his  eyes  were  suffused, 
and  he  seemed  in  danger  of  suffocating. 

"  Five  years,"  he  gasped.  "  Scoundrel,  do  you 
know  what  you  are  saying?  " 

Robin  bent  his  head,  without  speaking. 

"  Where  are  these  forgeries  ?  These  —  these  — " 
Beachcombe  stopped,  apparently  unable  to  utter  an- 
other word. 

"  As  I  told  you  before,  they  are  quite  safe,"  said 
Robin  quietly.  "  But  an  hour  after  my  death,  they 
will  be  in  the  hands  of  the  person  whom  they  most 
concern." 

"  And  do  you  —  does  this  impostor  imagine  that 
he  can  oust  a  peer  of  the  realm  with  a  few  old  let- 
ters and  musty  documents,  forsooth  ? "  cried  the 
earl,  recovering  himself  a  little.  "  We  nobles  hang 
together,  Sir  Highwayman,  and  are  chary  of  dis- 
turbing one  of  our  order  for  a  trifle." 

"  I  do  not  know  whether  he  can  oust  you,  Lord 
Beachcombe,"  said  Robin,  looking  him  steadily  in 
the  eye,  "  but  he  can  prove  you  a  bastard." 

Beachcombe  sprang  to  his  feet,  with  hand  on 
sword,  as  though  he  would  have  drawn  it  on  the 
defenseless  prisoner,  and  stood,  breathing  heavily, 
unable  to  utter  a  word. 

"  We  are  alone,  my  Lord,  and  not  one  word  that 
passes  between  us  need  ever  be  repeated  outside 
this  cell,"  said  Robin ;  "  that  is,  if  you  agree  to  my 
terms.  Otherwise,  I  may  feel  compelled  to  make 


58        THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

terms  with  your  cousin,  .who  would  be  the  inheritor 
if  you  were  —  illegitimate,  and  your  elder  brother 
were  —  could  be  induced  to  waive  his  claim." 

Lord  Beachcombe  bent  a  furtive  but  piercing  re- 
gard upon  the  prisoner.  "  And  how  can  you  an- 
swer for  him?"  he  asked,  slowly  weighing  his 
words.  "  If  I  buy  you  off,  I  may  have  to  fight 
him  in  the  law  courts  afterward.  Oh!  'tis  intol- 
erable —  it's  a  conspiracy  —  it  must  be  a  lie  —  my 
father  a  bigamist!  —  my  mother  — !  Villain,  you 
shall  hang  for  calling  me  bastard,  if  for  nothing 
else." 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Robin.  "  Your  unborn  child 
may  be  a  son,  whose  fate  hangs  upon  your  word. 
The  rightful  heir  values  my  life  so  highly,  that  he 
himself  has  instigated  this  offer.  He  is  willing  to 
give  all  his  documents  in  exchange  for  my  life  and 
liberty.  Furthermore,  for  a  sum  of  money  suffi- 
cient to  carry  him  abroad  and  start  him  in  life,  he 
will  sign  a  deed,  if  you  will  have  one  drawn  up, 
resigning  all  claims  on  the  title  or  estates  of  Beach- 
combe.  Is  that  explicit  enough  ?  " 

During  this  speech,  Lord  Beachcombe  had 
quieted  down,  and  was  now  seated  opposite  the 
prisoner,  whom  he  regarded  with  fixed  attention. 

"  What  does  your  claimant  call  himself?  Under 
what  name  is  he  known  ?  "  he  demanded  abruptly. 

"  You  can  not  know  it  without  perusing  the  docu- 
ments," said  Robin,  "  and  you  can  not  do  that  until 
I  am  free  to  bring  them  to  you  myself." 

"  I  tell  you,"  exclaimed  the  earl  pettishly,  "  that 
you  overestimate  my  influence.  How  can  I  obtain 


A  MATTER  OF  TITLE  59 

the  pardon  of  a  highwayman  who  attacked  the  Lord 
Archbishop?  " 

"  I  took  nothing  from  his  grace  but  his  wig !  " 
cried  Robin,  with  a  boisterous  laugh,  "  and  so  that 
he  might  not  catch  cold  in  his  venerable  head,  I 
gave  him  in  exchange  a  comfortable  cotton  night- 
cap, that  had  once  been  the  property  of  the  Mayor 
of  York!  'Twas  a  fair  exchange,  and  methinks 
the  archbishop  would  scarcely  wish  me  hanged  for 
a  joke,  when  I  might  have  stripped  him  of  a  coach- 
ful  of  treasure." 

Lord  Beachcombe  rose.  "There  are  yet  three 
days,"  he  said  grudgingly.  "  I'll  see  what  can  be 
done." 

"  Three  days  for  me,  my  Lord,  but  not  for  you," 
said  Robin  significantly.  "  I  must  know  by  this 
time  to-morrow  what  my  chances  are  with  you,  for 
the  letter  I  was  inditing  to  your  cousin  Francis  can 
not  be  delayed  longer  than  that." 

"  Francis !  "  sneered  Lord  Beachcombe.  "  What 
do  you  imagine  he  can  do  for  you?  A  man  whose 
name  is  hardly  known  at  court!  An  indolent  rec- 
luse ;  a  mere  bumpkin !  " 

"  For  me  ?  Probably  nothing,"  Robin  replied,  in 
a  stern,  threatening  tone.  "  But  what  can  he  do 
for  you,  with  those  papers  in  his  possession?  I 
may  be  dead  before  they  reach  him,  but  my  revenge 
will  be  sure,  in  his  hands." 

"  Do  you  suppose  he  will  put  himself  out  for  you 
—  your  claimant?  You  evidently  don't  know 
Francis." 

"  I  do  not  know  him,  but  I  know  human  nature," 


60         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

retorted  Robin.  "  What  heir  does  not  live  in  hopes 
of  some  day  inheriting?  I  shall  make  no  condi- 
tions with  him,  but  place  the  proof  of  your  father's 
first  marriage  in  his  hands.  Can  you  doubt  that  he 
will  use  that  weapon  to  put  himself  in  your  place? 
Oh!  don't  flatter  yourself  that  my  death  will  clear 
the  worst  danger  out  of  your  path.  Alive,  you 
have  a  dozen  ways  of  silencing  me;  dead,  I  have 
one  way  to  ruin  you  —  utterly." 

The  two  men  regarded  each  other  for  a  few 
seconds  intently.  Robin's  face  expressed  cold,  im- 
placable determination,  the  other,  deadly  hostility. 
Lord  Beachcombe  turned  suddenly  and  rapped 
sharply  on  the  door.  It  was  instantly  opened  by 
the  jailer,  and  he  strode  out  without  another  word 
or  glance. 

Robin  flung  himself  into  the  chair,  and  gave  way 
to  a  deep  and  gloomy  reverie.  From  time  to  time, 
broken  sentences  escaped  him.  "  What  is  the  use, 
after  all?" — "It  makes  little  difference  whether  I 
die  now,  or  live  to  be  hanged  some  other  time  " — 
and  other  remarks  of  a  pessimistic  and  dismal  na- 
ture. Then  he  fell  to  writing,  but  after  a  while, 
tore  the  paper  into  shreds,  and  sat  moodily  watch- 
ing the  sallow  reflection  of  daylight  fading  slowly 
behind  the  bars. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A  WEDDING-RING  FOR  A  KISS 

ROBIN  had  been  alone  half-an-hour  or  so,  when 
the  door  was  again  opened,  and  another  visi- 
tor announced. 

"  Here,  Highwayman,"  cried  the  jailer,  "  a  lady 
wants  to  see  you  now.  You  Knights  of  the  Road 
are  always  in  favor  with  the  women." 

"  I  know  no  women,"  said  Robin  roughly.  "  Cer- 
tainly none  that  would  come  here  to  see  me." 

"Well,  shall  this  one  come  in?"  demanded  the 
jailer.  "  I'll  warrant  she's  young  and  pretty,  and 
a  real  lady,  too !  She  came  in  a  chair !  " 

"  Oh !  let  her  in,  let  her  in.  Pray  don't  keep  a 
real  lady  waiting  in  the  passage,"  said  Robin,  who 
foresaw  some  begging  petition,  or,  perhaps,  the  re- 
quest of  some  frolicsome  damsel  for  a  lock  of  his 
hair  for  her  album,  or  a  bequest  of  the  rope  that 
hanged  him,  for  luck !  "  Be  seated,  Madam,"  he 
added,  as  a  slender  figure,  wrapped  in  a  heavy 
cloak  and  closely  veiled,  glided  timidly  into  the  cell. 
"  What  service  can  I  render  you?  " 

"  Can  I  have  a  few  words  alone  with  you  ?  " 
murmured  the  visitor.  The  jailer,  who  had  been 
hanging  round,  curious  to  see  and  hear,  withdrew, 
with  a  laugh  and  a  coarse  jest,  and  locked  the  door 
after  him. 

61 


62         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

The  lady  threw  off  her  veil,  revealing  the  homely 
features  and  sparkling  eyes  of  Margaret  Moffat. 

"  You  know  me  not,"  she  said.  "  Yet  we  have 
met  before,  Robin  Freemantle." 

"  I  can  not  believe,"  replied  Robin  gallantly, 
"  that,  once  seen,  you  could  ever  be  forgotten  by 
me." 

"  Well,  possibly  you  did  not  see  me ;  one  far 
more  attractive  engrossed  all  your  attention,  and 
'tis  from  her  I  come,  to  ask  as  favor  from  you, 
that  which  many  of  the  highest  in  the  land  have 
offered  in  vain." 

"  You  puzzle  me  greatly,"  said  Robin.  "  What 
favor  can  any  lady  desire  of  a  man  as  good  as 
dead?" 

"  Why  —  that's  just  where  it  is  —  an'  you  were 
not  condemned  to  die,  you  could  do  nothing  for 
my  lady." 

"  My  lady !  And  who  is  your  lady,  may  I 
ask?" 

"  I'll  tell  that  presently;  but  first,  before  I  reveal 
her  name,  tell  me  one  thing  truly.  Are  you  mar- 
ried?" 

"  Married  ?  No,  the  Saints  be  praised !  but  how 
can  that  concern  your  lady?  Does  she  wish  to 
marry  me,  perchance  ? "  cried  Robin  ironically. 

"  That  is  just  what  she  does  wish,"  said  Mar- 
garet, as  demurely  as  though  she  had  really  been 
the  waiting-maid  she  feigned  to  be.  "  And  for  a 
token,  she  sends  you  this."  And  she  threw  down 
before  him  the  wallet  he  had  flung  into  Prue's 
lap  on  Bleakmoor. 


A  WEDDING-RING  FOR  A  KISS       63 

He  took  it  up,  recognizing  it  with  a  whirling 
brain.  The  whole  scene  sprang  up  before  him  as 
under  a  sudden  illumination  —  the  gathering  dark- 
ness and  the  falling  rain  —  the  old  chariot,  with 
its  steaming  horses  and  frightened  servants  —  and 
by  the  light  of  his  lantern,  the  lovely  face  of  a  girl, 
with  her  hood  thrown  back  and  a  tangle  of  dark 
curls  against  the  milky  whiteness  of  her  neck.  He 
saw  the  round,  bare  arms  and  tapering  hands  ex- 
tended, to  show  that  she  had  no  jewels  about  her, 
the  roguish  smile  disclosing  the  little  even  teeth 
and  sparkling  in  the  depths  of  the  starry  eyes,  and 
for  a  moment  his  lips  once  more  brushed  her  scarlet 
mouth,  and  the  perfume  of  her  breath  again  clouded 
his  brain. 

Margaret  watched  him  with  amusement,  as  his 
face  disclosed  something  of  the  varying  emotions, 
over  which  amazement  predominated. 

"Does  that  surprise  you?"  she  inquired  mock- 
ingly. "  Sure,  'tis  no  uncommon  thing  for  a  man 
to  pay  for  a  kiss  with  a  wedding-ring!  " 

"  There  must  be  some  other  reason,"  he  said, 
more  to  himself  than  in  reply  to  her.  "  That  kiss 
meant  nothing  to  her" 

"  Did  it  mean  anything  to  you?  "  asked  Margaret, 
beginning  to  feel  interested. 

"  To  me  ?  "  His  face  was  suddenly  irradiated. 
"  You,  who  bask  in  the  light  of  that  incomparable 
loveliness  all  the  time,  can  never  understand  what 
it  means  to  the  man  who  sees  it  for  the  first  time  — 
and  not  only  sees,  but  touches !  —  touches  with  his 
unworthy  lips  that  cheek  of  down  —  those  lips! 


64         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

Ah!  how  many  times  since  have  I  felt  the  thrill  of 
that  kiss,  and  wondered  if  she  could  recall  it  with- 
out horror." 

"  Well,  horror  can  scarcely  be  the  sentiment  you 
inspired,  since  she  wishes  to  marry  you,"  simpered 
Peggie. 

The  mist  of  passion  suddenly  cleared  from  his 
eyes,  and  he  bent  on  her  so  steady  and  penetrating 
a  glance,  that  her  eyes  fell,  and  she  waited  nerv- 
ously for  his  next  words  to  give  the  cue  to  his 
thoughts. 

"  Ha !  she  wishes  to  marry  me  ?  "  he  said  slowly. 
"  Is  it  an  honest  wish  of  her  own,  or  is  it  a  trap 
set  by  some  one  else  ?  " 

"  Oh!  indeed,  it  is  entirely  her  own  idea! "  cried 
Margaret  eagerly ;  "  not  a  soul  has  any  suspicion 
of  it  but  herself  and  me,  and  if  you  refuse,  you 
will  not  even  know  her  name,  and  the  secret  will 
be  buried  in  your  grave." 

"  Then  give  me  a  reason,"  he  said,  apparently 
relieved  by  her  unmistakable  honesty.  "  Give  me 
the  real  reason,  for  I  see  this  is  something  more 
than  a  mere  fine  lady's  caprice." 

Margaret  felt  a  little  natural  embarrassment  — 
the  man  was  so  different  from  what  she  had  ex- 
pected, that  the  little  plans  she  had  devised  on  her 
way  to  the  prison,  did  not  fit  into  the  circumstances. 

"  In  truth  Prue  —  I  mean  the  Lady  Prudence  — 
is  deeply  in  debt  and  much  harassed  by  her  credit- 
ors, who  threaten  her  with  the  Fleet,  and  I  know 
not  what  beside,"  she  blurted  out.  "  Now,  if  she 
were  your  wife,  her  debts  would  be  your  debts,  and 


So  'tis  my  widow  she  desires  to  be !  "      Page  64. 


A  WEDDING-RING  FOR  A  KISS       65 

as  you,  alack,  must  die  on  Monday,  no  one  can 
make  your  widow  pay  your  debts !  " 

"  So  'tis  my  widow  the  Lady  Prudence  desires  to 
be;  not  my  wife!  "  said  Robin,  with  a  bitter  smile. 

"  What  difference  does  that  make  ?  "  cried  Mar- 
garet, greatly  relieved  at  having  got  over  the  worst 
of  her  mission.  "  An'  if  you  think  so  much  of  a 
kiss,  I'll  warrant  my  lady  will  not  refuse  one  to 
her  husband." 

"  Aye,  such  a  kiss  as  I  snatched  from  her  on 
Bleakmcor,  with  lips  denied  and  cheek  averted. 
Or  such  a  kiss  as  she  might  leave  on  the  face  of 
a  dead  stranger;  as  cold  as  the  corpse  itself." 

"  'Twill  be  your  own  fault  if  you  get  nothing 
better  than  that,"  cried  Peggie,  with  a  glance  that 
had  something  of  challenge  in  it.  "  On  Bleakmoor, 
Lady  Prudence  had  not  seen  your  face;  how  could 
she  tell  you  were  not  some  blackavised  desperado? 
There  is  not  a  handsome  young  gallant  behind  every 
robber's  mask." 

Robin  burst  out  laughing.  "  Thanks,  sweet- 
heart !  "  he  cried.  "  I  trust  my  bride-elect  has  as 
kind  a  disposition  as  her  messenger.  Yet  what 
does  it  matter  to  me  ? 

"  '  Be  she  meeker,  kinder  than 
Turtle-dove  or  pelican; 
If  she  be  not  so  to  me, 
What  care  I  how  kind  she  be  ?  ' : 

His  rich  voice  filled  the  squalid  cell  with  burst  of 
rollicking  melody.  "If  she  be  a  very  Xantippe, 
I  shall  not  suffer  from  her  temper,"  he  went  on. 


66         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  And,  by  the  way,  I  do  not  yet  know  the  name  of 
the  lady  who  has  honored  me  by  the  offer  of  her 
hand  —  in  widowhood." 

"  That  I  can  not  tell  you,  until  I  know  your  in- 
tentions," said  Margaret.  "  First,  will  you  marry 
her?" 

"  Will  I  marry  her  ?  Surely,  she  is  not  accus- 
tomed to  sue  in  vain  for  men's  hearts  and  hands! 
They  must  fall  under  her  feet  —  as  I  do  —  when 
she  but  glances  at  them.  Aye,  I  will  marry  her, 
though  death  himself  ties  the  nuptial  knot." 

"  That  is  settled,  then  — "  Peggie  was  beginning 
philosophically. 

"  Settled,  perhaps,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned ;  but 
what  about  your  lady?  Will  her  caprice  last  out 
until  you  return,  think  you,  or  will  she  be  likely  to 
stay  in  the  same  mind  until  to-morrow  ?  'Tis  noth- 
ing to  her,  mayhap,  to  set  a  poor  prisoner's  brain 
afire,  and  bid  him  welcome  death  because  it  brings 
him  five  minutes  of  her  company.  I  may  dream 
myself  her  husband  for  a  few  hours,  and  forget 
everything  else  in  the  delicious  hope  of  seeing  her 
again;  but  what  of  her?  By  the  time  you  go  back 
to  her,  she  may  have  changed  her  mind,  or  found 
some  less  objectionable  way  of  paying  her  debts !  " 

"  'Tis  like  enough,"  she  replied  coolly.  "  You 
would  not  be  the  first  she  has  served  in  that  fashion. 
You  must  take  your  chance  of  that." 

"  I'll  take  my  chance,"  the  prisoner  acquiesced. 

"  Very  well.  Now,  will  you  swear  not  to  reveal 
the  marriage  to  any  one  ?  —  unless  it  be  your  father- 
confessor,  if  you  have  one." 


A  WEDDING-RING  FOR  A  KISS       67 

"  That  I  will  willingly  swear.  If  she  can  keep 
the  secret  herself,  it  will  be  safe  enough  in  my 
grave." 

"  Now,  I  have  only  one  more  thing  to  ask.  You 
must  not  be  offended,  but  —  is  Robin  Freemantle 
your  true  name?  I  know  you  'Knights  of  the 
Road  '  do,  sometimes,  masquerade  in  name  as  well 
as  in  person,  so  perhaps  you  may  have  another  name 
—  not  quite  so  —  celebrated  ?  " 

"  Aha !  my  lady  wants  a  respectable  grave  to  bury 
her  debts  in !  "  cried  Robin,  laughing  sarcastically. 
"  I  am  fortunate  in  being  able  to  satisfy  her  even 
in  this.  I  have  another  name,  and  a  friend  who 
will  claim  my  body  after  I  am  hanged,  and  bury 
me  where  my  disconsolate  widow  may,  if  she  wish, 
raise  a  monument  to  commemorate  my  virtues  and 
her  woes."  He  wrote  the  name  on  a  sheet  of  paper 
and  handed  it  to  her. 

"  And  have  you  no  condition  to  make  ?  "  asked 
Peggie,  rising. 

"What  condition  should  I  make?"  demanded 
Robin,  somewhat  sternly.  "  Will  she  try  to  save 
my  life,  who  only  seeks  to  profit  by  my  death? 
No!  it  will  be  reward  enough  to  hold  her  hand 
for  five  minutes,  while  the  priest  makes  her  my 
wife;  for  just  so  long  as  I  can  coax  her  to  keep 
her  carriage  waiting !  No  conditions  for  me.  Yet, 
stay;  I'll  make  one  that  will  not  hurt  her  pride  or 
wound  her  vanity.  Tell  her  I  demand  that  she 
comes  to  me,  looking  her  prettiest,  as  becomes  a 
bride.  I'll  feast  my  eyes  upon  her  loveliness,  and 
if  she'll  but  kiss  me  once,  I'd  thank  them  if  they 


68         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

would  take  me  out  and  hang  me  before  the  kiss 
had  time  to  grow  cold  on  my  lips.  Fare-thee-well, 
sweetheart,  since  you  must  go,  and  thanks  for  your 
company.  Take  my  lady  back  my  wallet,  and  let 
me  first  fill  it  with  gold  pieces  for  yourself." 

"  No,  no !  "  cried  Peggie,  not  quite  able  to  act  up 
to  the  character  of  waiting-woman  to  the  extent 
of  accepting  a  fee  for  her  mediation.  "  My  lady 
would  be  vexed  with  me,  if  I  took  aught  from  you 
but  your  consent  to  marry  her." 

"  And  this,"  he  cried,  gaily  kissing  her.  "  I'll 
warrant  you  know  the  old  saw,  '  Kiss  and  never 
tell/  " 

"  For  shame !  "  she  remonstrated,  without  any 
great  show  of  indignation,  however.  "  Help  me 
with  my  cloak  and  call  the  jailer,  if  you  please. 
Alack,  my  reputation  would  suffer  sadly,  if  ever 
this  long  visit  should  be  heard  of  outside  the  walls 
of  Newgate." 

He  adjusted  her  cloak,  not  forgetting  to  steal 
another  kiss  before  she  tied  the  thick  veil  over  her 
hood.  "  To-morrow,"  she  said,  as  she  hurried  out 
after  the  jailer,  "  some  time  in  the  forenoon." 

As  she  took  her  seat  in  the  chair,  she  laughed 
softly  to  herself.  "  I  must  be  a  good  actress,"  she 
murmured,  "  or,  maybe,  there  is  not  enough  differ- 
ence between  an  earl's  granddaughter  and  a  wait- 
ing-maid to  be  perceptible  to  a  robber!  Odd's  life! 
he  doesn't  know  the  bride's  name,  even  now !  'Tis 
a  queer  marriage,  indeed !  " 


CHAPTER  VIII 

AN  ORDER  FOR  A  PARSON 

SCARCELY  had  Margaret  Moffat  alighted  from 
her  chair,  when  Prue  darted  out  into  the  little 
hall  and  greeted  her  with  embraces. 

"  Oh !  Peggie,  Peggie,  I  have  been  counting  the 
minutes  for  your  return,"  she  cried,  literally  danc- 
ing round  her.  "  Since  you  went  away,  all  sorts 
of  delightful  things  have  happened.  Our  boxes 
have  come  from  Yorkshire;  think  of  it,  all  our 
finery  —  packed  anyhow,  to  be  sure,  but  a  hot  iron 
will  repair  the  damage  —  and  we  can  go  to  court 
and  to  church  and  to  the  play,  and  to  the  Duchess 
of  Marlborough's  masquerade!  Oh!  Peggie,  I  am 
crazy  with  joy !  "  and  she  kissed  her  cousin  again, 
with  an  ardor  that  must  have  been  rather  exasper- 
ating to  Sir  Geoffrey,  who  was  looking  on. 

By  this  time,  Peggie  had  thrown  off  her  wraps, 
and  forgetting  all  about  Robin,  had  become  as  joy- 
ously excited  as  Prue. 

"  Oh !  the  masquerade  —  shall  we  be  invited  ? 
I  was  breaking  my  heart  to  think  of  missing  it!  " 

"  We  are  invited !  Scarcely  had  the  trunks  ar- 
rived, when  there  came  a  messenger  from  the  duch- 
ess with  the  invitations  for  the  masquerade,  and  a 
note  bidding  me  to  dinner  with  her  grace,  to-mor- 
row, at  noon.  Think  how  overjoyed  I  was  to  be 

69 


70         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

able  to  accept  both  invitations.  I  flew  up  to  grand- 
mother to  give  her  the  good  news  —  never  thinking, 
I  vow,  that  she  would  do  aught  but  scold  —  and 
found  her  in  a  most  gracious  mood.  She  gave  me 
a  lovely  lace  flounce.  Oh!  Peggie,  you  know  her 
rose-point?  there's  some  for  you,  too;  and  what 
do  you  think?  She  offered  to  lend  me  her  pearls, 
and  promised  to  give  us  fifty  guineas  to  help  make 
us  presentable  at  the  queen's  next  drawing-room. 
Isn't  that  good  news  ?  And  now,  Peggie,  you  must 
help  me  prepare  for  to-morrow ;  that  is  even  more 
important  than  the  mask,  for  if  the  duchess 
should  be  in  great  good-humor  with  her  little  Prue, 
she  might  take  her  to  Kensington  Palace  to  make 
her  peace  with  the  queen !  " 

"  To-morrow  morning  you  have  already  one  very 
particular  engagement,"  cried  Peggie,  laughing. 
"  I  see,  however,  that  poor  Robin  was  right  in  think- 
ing you  might  change  your  mind  before  I  got 
back!" 

"  Robin  —  !  "  Prue  glanced  at  Sir  Geoffrey, 
and  turned  scarlet.  Then  her  eyes  danced  with  mis- 
chief. "  Tell  us  all  about  it,  Peggie ;  Sir  Geoffrey 
may  as  well  enjoy  the  joke." 

Margaret  hesitated,  and  would  have  changed  the 
subject,  but  Prue,  wilful  as  usual,  would  not  be 
denied. 

"'Tis  too  good  to  keep,"  she  laughed.  "You 
must  know,  Sir  Geoffrey,  that  I  am  desperately  in 
debt;  'tis  no  secret,  though  no  one  but  Peggie 
knows  how  I  have  been  driven  and  harried  by  my 
creditors.  Well,  in  utter  despair,  I  hit  upon  a  most 


AN  ORDER  FOR  A  PARSON          71 

original  way  of  paying  my  debts.  I  decided  to  be 
the  widow  of  Robin  Freemantle,  who  is  condemned 
to  be  hanged  next  Monday." 

"  The  widow  of  Robin  Freemantle ! "  he  ex- 
claimed, with  evident  mystification.  "  Pray,  how 
can  you  be  a  widow  without  first  being  a  wife?  " 

"  That  was  the  only  difficulty,"  cried  Prue,  with 
a  mock-serious  air,  "  so  I  persuaded  Peggie  to  go 
to  Newgate  and  ask  Robin  to  marry  me.  Did  he 
consent,  Peggie?  Did  he  make  terms  and  demand 
a  bribe,  or  am  I  forestalled  by  some  fair  Molly  of 
the  Minories,  and  must  I  pine  in  the  Fleet,  or  marry 
good  Mr.  Aarons?" 

Sir  Geoffrey,  who  was,  perhaps,  a  little  deficient 
in  sense  of  humor,  could  not  dissemble  his  perplex- 
ity. He  had  passed  the  afternoon  at  the  feet  of 
his  capricious  mistress,  or  rather  under  the  high 
heels  of  her  dainty  slippers,  for  she  had  laughed  at 
his  vows  and  persisted  in  turning  his  poetic  rhapso- 
dies into  coldest  prose.  Even  her  joy  over  the  ar- 
rival of  her  trunks  and  the  duchess'  invitations, 
had  not  improved  matters,  for  she  took  little  pains 
to  conceal  that  the  prospect  of  returning  to  the  field 
of  her  former  triumphs  had  reawakened  a  thirst  for 
further  conquest,  which  might  prove  disastrous, 
both  to  his  matrimonial  views  and  his  rash  wager. 

It  was  certainly  disconcerting  to  hear  his  be- 
trothed calmly  discussing  her  possible  marriage  with 
this  one  and  that  one,  while  he  was  racking  his 
brain  to  devise  some  means  of  marrying  her  with- 
out burdening  himself  with  the  debts  she  must  needs 
bring  in  her  little  hand.  And  Sir  Geoffrey  had 


72         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

already  discovered  that  Prudence  was  never  so  likely 
to  be  serious,  as  when  she  appeared  most  frivolous. 

"  Miss  Moffat  has  been  to  Newgate  ? "  he  ex- 
claimed, grasping  that  one  fact  out  of  a  bewildering 
array  of  vague  possibilities.  "  What  an  extraordi- 
nary adventure!  And  did  you  really  see  the  mis- 
creant ?  " 

"  I  saw  him,"  replied  Peggie,  "  and  for  a  mis- 
creant, he  was  really  quite  inoffensive,  and  even 
agreeable ; "  she  smiled  furtively,  as  she  thought  of 
the  two  kisses  he  had  stolen,  "  and  if  Prue  will 
choose  that  way  out  of  her  troubles,  she  may;  for 
he's  ready  to  marry  her  to-morrow,  if  she  will  pro- 
vide the  priest  and  the  ring." 

Prue  glanced  at  her  suitor,  and  observing  his 
downcast  eyes  and  the  thoughtful  frown  upon  his 
brow,  thought  the  joke  had  been  carried  far  enough, 
even  for  her  perverse  humor. 

"  Nay,  dear  Peggie,  'tis  enough  folly  for  once," 
she  said.  "  Let  the  poor  fellow  die  in  peace. 
What  good  would  it  do  me  to  be  the  widow  of  a 
malefactor  publicly  hanged?  I  could  never  claim 
the  rights  of  such  a  widowhood !  " 

"  It  need  not  be  known,  coz,"  Peggie  eagerly 
suggested.  "  He  has  another  name  —  one  quite 
familiar  to  you  —  and  though  he  will  die  as  Robin 
Freemantle,  he  will  be  married  and  buried  under 
his  own  name  —  or  what  he  claims  as  his  own  — 
Robert  Gregory  de  Cliff e." 

Both  her  hearers  repeated  the  name  in  tones  of 
astonishment,  "  De  Cliffe !  " 

"  Of  course,  it  is  an  assumed  name,  but  'twill 


AN  ORDER  FOR  A  PARSON          73 

serve,  none  the  less,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  with  a  con- 
strained smile. 

"  De  Cliffe,"  repeated  Prue;  "  'twould  be  strange, 
indeed,  if  that  name  became  mine  by  such  a  means. 
Lord  Beachcombe  would  be  greatly  edified,  if  he 
knew  I  had  a  second  opportunity  of  bearing  his 
family-name."  She  laughed  merrily,  "  If  such  a 
thing  could  be  taken  seriously,  this  would  almost 
tempt  me." 

"  And  why  not  ?  "  cried  Peggie.  "  I  protest  I 
see  no  reason  for  throwing  away  such  a  chance. 
You  marry  the  man  to-morrow,  and  on  Monday 
you  will  be  a  widow.  His  body  will  be  claimed  by 
a  friend  and  buried  under  the  name  of  De  Cliffe, 
and  if  your  creditors  harass  you,  all  you  have  to 
do  is  to  produce  your  marriage-lines  and  they  may 
go  hunt  for  their  money  in  Robin's  grave." 

Prue  looked  irresolutely  at  Sir  Geoffrey.  Her 
caprice  for  this  marriage  was  almost  played  out, 
but  she  wanted  to  be  coaxed  out  of  it,  and  to  make 
a  great  favor  of  yielding  up  her  own  wilful  way 
to  the  remonstrances  and  entreaties  of  her  lover. 
Sir  Geoffrey,  on  the  other  hand,  had  rapidly  turned 
the  matter  over  in  his  own  mind,  and  arrived  at 
the  conclusion  that  however  this  escapade  might  af- 
fect Prue,  it  would  have  two  points  in  his  favor. 
First,  the  riddance  of  those  debts  which  he  was  so 
unwilling  to  shoulder,  and  second,  the  advantage 
that  the  possession  of  such  a  secret  would  give  him 
in  pressing  his  suit  to  a  speedy  marriage,  and  in 
maintaining  his  marital  authority  later  on.  Sir 
Geoffrey  adored  Prue,  but  with  the  experience 


74         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

he  had  gained  of  her  wiles  and  guiles,  he  had  no 
objection  to  the  handling  of  a  weapon  that  would 
keep  them  in  due  subjection. 

He  remained  silent,  so  after  a  pause  that  began 
to  be  ominous,  Prue  said  softly,  "  And  you,  Sir 
Geoffrey;  how  does  this  project  strike  you? 
Peggie  has  given  me  a  girl's  advice;  I  should  like 
a  man's  opinion." 

He  hemmed  a  little,  and  glanced  from  one  ex- 
pectant face  to  the  other.  "  Woman's  wit,"  he  be- 
gan at  last,  "  is  often  more  to  the  point  than 
man's  — " 

"  Wisdom,"  suggested  Peggie,  filling  in  a  slight 
hesitancy. 

He  laughed  deprecatingly.  ".Oh!  my  dear  Miss 
Margaret,  I  was  not  thinking  of  laying  claim  to 
wisdom  —  merely  to  logic,  with  which  we  poor 
dull-brained  men  try  to  compensate  for  our  lack  of 
feminine  intuition.  You,  who  are  wise  as  well  as 
witty,  can  well  afford  to  be  merciful — " 

"  Still,"  persisted  Prue,  "  you  are  only  compli- 
menting Peggie's  wit;  you  are  not  telling  us  what 
you  think  of  her  scheme." 

"  Peggie's  scheme !  — oh  — "  murmured  Marga- 
ret, sotto  voce. 

"  My  dearest  Prudence,  surely  I  do  not  need  to 
say  that  the  idea  of  any  man  having  even  such  a 
ghost  of  a  claim  upon  the  woman  I  adore,  is  ab- 
horrent to  me,"  Sir  Geoffrey  began,  rather  pomp- 
ously. "  'Tis  absurd  to  think  that  a  few  words  to 
a  stranger  could  free  you  from  so  much  anxiety, 
while  I,  the  most  faithful  of  your  slaves,  am  forced 


AN  ORDER  FOR  A  PARSON          75 

by  cruel  Fate  to  stand  aside,  for  fear  of  aggravating 
your  woes."  Having  got  thus  far,  however,  it  oc- 
curred to  him  that  this  was  too  serious  a  view  of 
the  matter,  so  he  went  on  with  a  careless  laugh, 
"  To  be  sure  you  would  only  see  him  once  —  the 
fellow's  audacity  would  be  rightly  punished  by  such 
a  torment  of  Tantalus  —  and  your  creditors  —  the 
wretches  have  threatened  you  with  the  Fleet,  did 
you  say  ?  By  Saint  George,  'tis  no  more  than  they 
deserve  to  be  balked  of  their  prey  —  it  seems  al- 
most worth  while  — " 

"  I  see,"  interrupted  Prue,  without  the  least 
appearance  of  annoyance,  "  that  you  agree  with 
Peggie.  We  will  consider  it  settled.  I'm  so  glad 
we  have  told  you  about  it,"  she  went  on,  in  her 
most  vivacious  manner.  "  I  really  don't  see  how 
Peggie  and  I  could  have  managed  without  you; 
and  to  think  that  I  was  foolish  enough  to  be  afraid 
you  would  be  shocked !  — " 

"  Oh !  I  am  shocked  —  distracted,  at  the  idea  of 
any  man — "  he  began,  but  she  interrupted  him, 
playfully  shaking  her  forefinger  at  him. 

"  Now,  now !  don't  let  us  try  to  be  sentimental 
about  it.  The  plan  is  a  very  good  plan ;  very  sensi- 
ble and  ingenious.  I  am  proud  of  having  origi- 
nated it.  Peggie,  I  know,  is  proud  of  having 
successfully  carried  out  the  negotiations,  and  you 
will  have  a  right,  my  dear  Sir  Geoffrey,  to  be  proud 
of  the  part  you  are  going  to  play  in  bringing  it  to 
a  triumphant  end." 

"  I  am  entirely  at  your  disposal,  my  dear  Pru- 
dence," said  Sir  Geoffrey,  rather  taken  aback  at  thus 


76         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

finding  himself  assigned  an  acting  part  in  the  comedy, 
"  but  I  hardly  know  what  I  can  do  —  indeed,  the 
fewer  persons  concerned  the  better,  I  think  —  the 
less  likely  to  attract  attention  —  comment  might  be 
caused  by  any  —  a  —  unusual  action  on  the  part  of 
a  member  of  Parliament  —  the  newsmongers  are 
always  on  the  look-out  for  — " 

"  Ta-ta-ta !  don't  you  suppose  that  I  should 
make  a  spicier  mouthful  for  the  newsmongers  than 
even  a  member  of  Parliament?"  cried  Prue  im- 
patiently. "  Who  is  to  procure  the  marriage  license 
and  the  priest,  Sir  Geoffrey,  unless  you  do  it? 
Don't  you  think  I  should  attract  more  attention  in 
Doctors'  Commons  than  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert, 
M.P.  ?  And  surely,  you  can  more  easily  find  some 
accommodating  parson  who  will  keep  the  secret  and 
be  sure  to  tie  the  knot  so  securely,  that  when  the 
time  comes  to  reap  the  reward,  there  may  be  no 
slip  'twixt  cup  and  lip.  Then,  to-morrow  morning, 
you  can  conduct  me  to  Newgate,  on  my  way  to  dine 
with  the  duchess,  and  take  care  that  Peggie  and  I 
do  not  get  clapped  into  a  dungeon  by  mistake." 

"If  it  can  be  done  so  soon,"  Sir  Geoffrey  began 
reluctantly,  yet  scarcely  venturing  to  make  any 
further  excuse. 

"  If  it  can  not  be  done  then,"  cried  Prue  im- 
periously, "  it  will  not  be  done  at  all.  You  may  be 
sure,  once  I  get  back  to  court,  I  shall  have  no  time 
for  marrying  malefactors,  or  members  of  Parlia- 
ment either,  mayhap." 

Sir  Geoffrey  made  no  further  protest,  but  con- 
sidering that  the  benefit  to  himself  was  so,  undenia- 


AN  ORDER  FOR  A  PARSON          77 

ble,  gave  in  gracefully,  and  pledged  himself  to  his 
lady's  service  with  many  courtly  vows.  Indeed,  the 
tempting  prospect  of  Prue,  divested  of  her  debts, 
and  free  in  three  days  to  bestow  herself  upon  him, 
rose  before  him  in  such  glowing  colors,  that  even 
Lord  Beachcombe's  wager  was  cast  into  the  shade,  ' 
and  only  served  to  add  luster  to  the  vision  of  his 
fickle  and  inconsequent  mistress,  reduced  to  sweet 
reasonableness  and  proper  wifely  submission  by  the 
judicious  use  of  her  discreditable  secret. 

He,  therefore,  took  his  leave,  having  to  content 
himself  for  the  nonce  with  the  tips  of  Prue's 
fingers  to  kiss,  and  leaving  the  cousins  to  the  de- 
lightful occupation  of  turning  over  their  recovered 
wardrobes,  and  devising  the  means  of  making  a  re- 
splendent appearance  at  court  with  their  present 
possessions  and  the  thrifty  outlay  of  Lady  Drum- 
loch's  fifty  guineas. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  WEDDING 

44lt   JTY    mind    misgives    me,"    said    Margaret, 

^ V JL  when  the  two  girls  were  at  their  toilet  the 
next  morning.  "  'Tis  not  too  late,  Prue,  for  re- 
flection, and  if  ill  betide  thee,  dear,  I  shall  feel  as 
if  I  had  brought  it  on  thee." 

Prue  turned  from  her  mirror  with  a  petulant 
gesture.  "  Tell  me,  Peggie,  truly,"  she  said,  with 
an  air  of  deep  concern,  "  do  you  not  think  the  hair- 
dresser has  trussed  my  hair  too  high  on  top? 
Would  not  a  curl  or  two  more  on  the  neck  be  an 
improvement?  Prithee,  unpin  this  lock  and  let  it 
fall  negligently  behind  my  ear.  Ah !  that's  better." 
She  turned  back  to  the  mirror,  and  regarded  her 
reflection  critically.  "  Am  I  too  pale,  Peggie  ? 
Do  you  think  a  touch  of  rouge  —  the  least  touch  — • 
would  be  becoming?  " 

"  For  the  wedding,  do  you  mean  ?  Faith,  I  al- 
ways thought  a  pale,  pensive  bride  more  interesting. 
Not  that  you  are  either.  A  shade  more  color  would 
spoil  you.  I  think  you  are  even  a  little  flushed." 

"  You  are  pale,  Peggie,"  said  Prue,  looking 
fixedly  at  her.  "  What's  the  matter?  " 

"  Oh !  I  dreamed  all  night  of  troubled  water, 
Prue.  You  know  that's  ill-luck!  'Tis  not  too 
late  to  give  up  this  foolish  marriage  — " 

78 


THE  WEDDING  79 

"  Foolish  marriage !  Why,  Peggie,  'tis  the  first 
wise  one  I  have  ever  contemplated.  And  as  for 
a  dream,  why  I  dreamed  three  times  running  of  a 
black  cat,  and  if  anything  bodes  good  luck  that 
does." 

"  But  suppose  after  all  the  object  of  the  marriage 
should  fail,"  urged  Margaret. 

"  Fail !  How  can  it  fail  ?  "  cried  Prue  pettishly. 
"  Besides,  you  know  the  motto  of  the  Wynnes : 
'  Cowards  fayle.  I  winne'  Well,  I  have  failed 
often  enough,  yet  not  from  cowardice,  God  wot! 
And  still  I  am  always  hoping  to  win,  I  scarce  know 
what." 

"  Your  new  motto  will  suit  you  just  as  well," 
said  Peggie,  " '  Nil  timeo.' }i 

"  Ha,  ha !  the  motto  of  the  De  Cliffes.  Was  ever 
such  audacity  as  this  Robin's?  I've  a  mind  to  ask 
him,  when  the  deed  is  done,  if  he  has  any  direc- 
tions to  give  about  his  hatchment,  or  if  I  shall  refer 
the  matter  to  the  head  of  the  house." 

"  Oh !  Prue,  are  you  utterly  heartless  ?  I  de- 
clare, since  I  have  seen  the  poor  young  man  I  am 
sorry  for  him  and  I  wish  I  had  not  helped  to  turn 
his  execution  into  a  jest." 

"Would  you  have  me  weep?"  said  Prue,  al- 
most sternly.  "  There  is  always  time  enough  for 
that  when  there  is  nothing  else  to  be  done.  Ah! 
I  hear  Sir  Geoffrey's  voice.  You  are  dressed,  Peg- 
gie, prithee  go  down  to  him  and  bring  me  word 
whether  he  has  done  his  part,  and  is  ready  —  and 
willing  —  to  give  away  the  bride." 

She  turned  for  a  last  look  in  the  mirror  as  Peg- 


So         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

gie  hurried  away,  and  the  half-scornful  smile  with 
which  she  surveyed  her  own  charming  reflection 
had  none  of  the  levity  with  which  she  had  so  easily 
deceived  her  cousin.  Yet  it  certainly  was  not  a 
picture  to  provoke  disdain.  Never  had  the  wilful 
beauty  looked  to  greater  advantage.  The  restless 
brilliancy  of  her  sparkling  eyes,  the  changeful  color 
that  flushed  and  paled  her  cheek  with  each  quick- 
drawn  breath,  the  nameless  but  irresistible  charm 
that  animated  every  feature,  might  have  excused  a 
more  complacent  glance.  But  Prue,  though  by  no 
means  prone  to  deal  severely  with  herself,  was 
a  good  deal  more  ashamed  of  her  scheme  than  she 
would  have  cared  to  own,  even  to  herself,  and  per- 
haps secretly  longed  for  some  insurmountable  obsta- 
cle to  stop  her  in  spite  of  herself. 

She  was  determined,  however,  that  she  would  not 
be  the  one  to  raise  a  difficulty.  She  was  so  un- 
speakably mortified  by  the  new  light  yesterday's 
events  had  thrown  on  Sir  Geoffrey's  wooing  that 
the  idea  of  placing  a  barrier  between  herself  and 
him,  gave  her  keen  satisfaction.  That  the  possi- 
bility of  her  inheriting  a  fortune  from  her  grand- 
mother should  have  influenced  his  pursuit  of  her 
ever  so  slightly,  wounded  her  vanity,  that  nerve- 
center  of  her  being;  and  that  he  should  have  lent 
his  countenance  and  help  to  a  scheme  that  would 
give  her,  even  nominally,  to  another  man,  no  matter 
how  brief  or  indefinite  the  tenure,  dealt  it  an  almost 
mortal  blow. 

"  He  has  yet  a  chance,"  she  murmured.  "  He 
may  have  found  on  reflection  that  he  can  not  bring 


THE  WEDDING  81 

himself  to  sacrifice  me  for  the  sake  of  a  couple  of 
thousand  pounds'  worth  of  debts,  and  he  may  im- 
plore me  to  refrain  for  his  sake.  I  might  not  be 
persuaded  —  one  can  never  answer  for  oneself  — 
but  he  would  come  out  of  it  without  dishonor." 
She  mechanically  smoothed  a  ribbon  here  and  ad- 
justed a  flounce  there  and,  half  turning,  tried  to 
obtain  a  full  view  of  her  back  in  a  glass  two  feet 
square.  "  'Tis  provoking  to  be  obliged  to  dress  by 
guess-work,"  she  commented.  "  If  I  were  to  marry 
old  Aarons  I  could  have  three  or  four  tire-women 
and  a  dressing-room  with  the  walls  all  covered  with 
mirrors,  so  that  I  could  see  every  side  of  myself 
at  once.  Pah !  what  is  coming  over  me  that  I  could 
even  think  of  such  a  creature?  What  with  mar- 
rying criminals  and  receiving  offers  from  usurers 
the  Viscountess  Brooke  must  be  coming  to  a  pretty 
pass." 

With  which  she  made  a  deep  curtsey  to  as  much 
as  she  could  see  of  the  Viscountess  Brooke  in  the 
little  looking-glass,  and  running  out  of  the  room 
met  Miss  Moffat  coming  up-stairs. 

"  Hasten,  Prue,"  she  whispered  breathlessly. 
"  All  is  arranged.  Sir  Geoffrey  has  the  ring  and 
license  in  his  pocket  and  a  parson  in  the  carriage. 
If  the  bride  is  ready — "  She  had  entirely  recov- 
ered from  her  brief  spasm  of  reluctance  and  was  as 
merry  as  a  child  and  as  reckless  of  consequences. 

"  The  bride  is  quite  ready,"  cried  Prue.  "  Noth- 
ing is  lacking  except  — " 

"Except  what?"  inquired  Peggie,  as  she  broke 
off  abruptly. 


82         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  Oh!  a  trifle  or  two;  nothing  worth  mentioning," 
laughed  Prue,  snatching  up  her  cloak  and  hood 
and  running  lightly  down-stairs,  where  Sir  Geoffrey 
awaited  them,  not  altogether  at  ease  about  his  own 
part  in  the  affair,  and  palpably  relieved  that  Prue 
was  in  the  best  of  spirits  and  inclined  to  treat  the 
whole  adventure  as  a  frolic. 

"  "Tis  all  your  own  fault  —  and  Peggie's,"  she 
laughed  in  her  sauciest  way.  "  If  I  were  not  the 
most  good-natured  person  in  the  world  I  should 
scold  you  both  soundly  and  refuse  to  make  a  fool 
of  myself  for  your  amusement." 

"  Will  you  change  places  with  me  and  let  me  take 
your  chance?"  cried  Peggie.  "It  can  not  make 
much  difference  to  Robin." 

"  What,  when  I  am  all  dressed  up  in  ribbons 
and  laces  for  the  wedding?  No  difference,  for- 
sooth !  What  do  you  say  to  that,  Sir  Geoffrey  ?  " 

"  I  was  just  going  to  suggest  that  you  were  alto- 
gether too  fine  a  bride  for  the  occasion,"  said  Sir 
Geoffrey,  rather  glumly.  "  A  less  resplendent  toi- 
let would  be  less  likely  to  attract  attention." 

"  Eclipse  me  then  under  this  big  cloak,"  she  re- 
plied, giving  it  to  him.  "  Do  you  think,  you  foolish 
man,  that  I  am  dressed  up  like  this  to  wed  a  foot- 
pad? I  am  on  my  way  to  Marlborough  House  to 
dine  with  the  duchess,  and  must  hasten  or  I  shall 
be  late  and  may  chance  to  get  a  box  o'  the  ear  for 
my  first  course." 

Robin  Freemantle  sat  at  the  rough  table  in  his 
cell,  writing  busily.  Several  closely  written  sheets 


THE  WEDDING  83 

were  spread  out  before  him,  and  when  he  finished 
the  last  and  signed  his  name  to  it  he  threw  the  pen 
down  and  sat  drumming  on  the  table  with  his 
fingers.  It  was  an  idle  action  but  by  no  means  idly 
performed,  for  the  frown  on  his  forehead  and  the 
movements  of  his  long,  sinewy  hands  were  full  of 
purpose,  and  angry  purpose,  too. 

Presently  the  frown  died  away  and  a  look  of 
wistful  sadness  replaced  it.  He  took  up  the  written 
sheets  and  turned  them  in  his  fingers  as  though  half- 
disposed  to  tear  them  up,  smiling  bitterly  as  he 
glanced  from  page  to  page. 

"  What  good  will  it  do  me,"  he  muttered,  "  when 
my  bones  are  rotting  in  an  unmarked  grave,  to  be- 
queath a  feud  to  perhaps  unborn  generations? 
Shall  I  fling  down  my  mother's  reputation  for  the 
lawyers  to  fight  over,  like  dogs  over  a  bone,  when 
I  am  not  there  to  protect  it,  and  when  the  outcome 
of  the  struggle  will  interest  me  as  little  as  it  will 
her?" 

A  dim  vision,  more  imagination  than  memory, 
rose  before  him  of  the  fair,  young  mother  who  had 
faded  from  his  life  twenty -three  years  ago,  and  be- 
side it  another  face  radiant  with  life  and  laughter, 
a  pair  of  blue  eyes  sparkling  through  curled  lashes, 
a  pair  of  round,  white  arms  gleaming  in  the  dark- 
ness, a  scarlet  mouth  —  every  nerve  tingled  at  the 
thought  that  his  own  had  touched  it,  and  might 
again.  But  no!  she  had  been  merely  playing  with 
him.  How  could  he  have  been  fooled  by  the  ruse 
of  a  spoiled  beauty  to  feed  her  own  vanity  and  pun- 
ish his  audacity?  She  want  to  marry  him!  It  was 


84 

fantastic,  absurd,  and  what  could  be  more  improb- 
able than  the  reason  for  such  a  folly?  She  had  a 
wager  on  it,  perhaps,  or  merely  wished  to  amuse 
herself  at  the  expense  of  the  daring  highwayman 
who  had  robbed  her  of  a  kiss.  Well,  she  had  had 
her  way.  He  had  shown  that  she  had  but  to 
beckon  and  he  was  ready  to  follow,  and  that  had 
doubtless  ended  her  whim. 

"  She  will  not  come ! "  he  said,  aloud,  in  a  tone 
of  poignant  disappointment,  that  plainly  showed 
how  he  clung  to  the  promise  he  feigned  to  discredit. 

The  jailer  opened  the  door  noisily. 

"  Visitors  for  the  highwayman,"  he  announced. 
"  More  fine  ladies  and  gentlemen." 

Robin  sprang  to  his  feet,  looking  eagerly  from 
one  to  another.  Whatever  his  expectations  were, 
the  first  glance  disappointed  them.  A  pimply-faced, 
watery-eyed  little  man,  in  rusty  black,  entered  first, 
conducting  Margaret  Moffat  by  the  hand  in  a  cere- 
monious fashion,  that  had  something  in  it  remi- 
niscent of  the  time  when  he  did  not  need  filling  up 
with  gin  to  make  him  remember  that  he  was  a  stu- 
dent and  a  Doctor  of  Divinity.  And  close  behind 
him,  followed  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert  —  tall, 
handsome,  dressed  with  the  sober  elegance  that  be- 
came the  budding  statesman,  supporting  on  his  arm 
a  lady,  enveloped  from  head  to  foot  in  a  hooded 
cloak,  that  completely  concealed  her. 

"  May  I  inquire  — "  Robin  began.  Then  his 
glance  fell  upon  Margaret,  whose  air  of  coquettish 
simplicity  would  not  have  misbecome  my  lady's  con- 
fidential maid,  and  recognizing  her,  his  hopes  rose 


THE  WEDDING  85 

again,  and  he  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh.  "  Ha, 
my  fair  friend;  have  you  come  to  enliven  my  soli- 
tude once  more?  What!  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaude- 
sert?  I  can  not  say  I  anticipated  the  honor  of  a 
visit  from  you.  I  fancied  you  had  already  seen 
more  of  me  than  you  approved." 

Sir  Geoffrey  flushed.  "  My  good  fellow,"  he 
said  haughtily,  "  I  have  no  personal  enmity  toward 
you;  I  merely  did  my  duty  as  a  citizen  in  appear- 
ing as  a  witness  against  you." 

"Oh!  I  had  forgotten  that,"  said  Robin  negli- 
gently. "  I  was  thinking  of  the  time  when  I  and 
my  friends  were  chasing  you  and  yours,  and  the 
constables  shot  my  horse  —  poor  Firebrand,  I  won- 
der what  became  of  him  —  and  turned  the  tide  of 
battle." 

"  'Sdeath,  fellow !  "  Sir  Geoffrey  began  furiously, 
but  Prue  checked  him  with  a  light  touch  on  the  arm. 

"  Pray,  gentlemen,  do  not  waste  time  quarreling  ; 
what  does  it  matter  now  who  fled  and  who  pur- 
sued?" 

At  the  sound  of  her  voice,  at  once  gentle  and 
imperious,  the  two  men  dropped  their  warlike  air, 
and  Robin,  who  was  astounded  to  recognize  Prue 
in  Sir  Geoffrey's  companion,  seemed  petrified  into 
a  statue  of  expectancy. 

"If  we  can  have  a  few  minutes'  privacy  —  ?" 
she  suggested. 

Sir  Geoffrey  beckoned  to  the  jailer,  and  after  a 
murmured  conference,  enlivened  by  the  clinking  of 
coin,  the  latter  consented  to  see  that  they  were  un- 
interrupted for  as  long  as  they  wished. 


86         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

While  that  was  being  arranged,  Prue  approached 
Robin  with  a  timid  air.  "  Master  Robert  de  Cljffe 
—  or  Robin  Freemantle  " —  she  said,  "  I  thank  you 
for  consenting  to  my  wild  scheme,  and  I  pray  you, 
forgive  me  if  it  seems  heartless." 

"  Madam,  I  deem  myself  fortunate,  if  my  death 
be  of  any  use  to  you,"  he  replied,  with  a  ring  of 
bitter  sadness  in  his  tone. 

Prue,  greatly  surprised  by  the  voice,  which  had 
none  of  the  roughness  of  the  robber's  greeting  on 
Bleakmoor,  looked  more  closely  at  Robin,  and  dis- 
covered that  he  was  young,  handsome,  and  by  no 
means  ferocious-looking. 

"  I  would  not  have  you  feel  harshly  toward  me," 
she  said,  in  a  low,  thrilling  voice.  "  It  is  not  too 
late,  even  now,  for  me  to  withdraw,  if  you  deem 
me  overbold." 

A  spasm  of  apprehension  shivered  through  him. 
Had  she  brought  his  dream  so  near  realization  only 
to  snatch  it  from  him?  Could  a  woman  be  so 
cruel  to  a  dying  man?  He  met  her  questioning 
look  with  one  of  agonized  supplication.  "  With- 
draw —  now  ?  "  he  muttered,  unable  to  voice  the 
prayer  of  his  eyes.  "  Then  why  come  at  all  —  to 
mock  me  ?  " 

But  Prue  was  quick  to  read  men's  hearts,  and 
what  she  saw  in  Robin's,  translated  his  few  abrupt 
words  into  a  language  that  stirred  hers  to  pity. 
Therefore,  to  console  him  (the  jailer  having  by  this 
time  retired),  she  now  threw  off  her  wraps,  and 
revealed  such  a  vision  of  loveliness  as  fairly  illu- 


THE  WEDDING  87 

minated  the  dingy  prison  cell.     His  look  of  de- 
lighted surprise  satisfied  her. 

"  I  recognize  you  now,  but  you  are  far,  far  more 
beautiful  than  even  my  dreams  of  you!  And  have 
you  really  made  yourself  so  fine  to  gladden  a  poor 
prisoner's  eyes  ?  "  said  Robin,  gazing  with  rapture 
upon  the  graceful  figure  in  its  dainty  garb  of  bro- 
cade and  lace,  the  lovely  face,  from  which  eyes  of 
the  most  dazzling  brightness  smiled  alluringly  upon 
him;  the  little  hand,  so  tapering  and  dimpled, 
stretched  out  to  him  with  a  gesture,  half -entreaty 
and  half-command.  As  he  took  it  in  his,  she 
blushed  a  little,  remembering  how  he  had  behaved 
the  other  time  she  offered  it.  But  this  time,  he  bent 
his  head  and  laid  a  courtly  and  reverential  salute 
upon  it. 

"  We  have  nothing  to  wait  for  now,"  said  Sir 
Geoffrey,  impatiently  observing  this  little  episode. 
"  Parson  Goodridge,  have  you  shown  the  papers  to 
this  gentleman,  to  make  sure  they  are  correct  ?  " 

Robin  mechanically  took  up  the  papers  the  par- 
son had  laid  on  the  table,  and  read  out  the  names 
from  the  marriage  license.  "  Robert  Gregory  de 
Cliffe,"  he  nodded  approval  and  glanced  further 
down.  "  Prue,  widow  of  James  Stuart  Brooke 
and  daughter  of  Reginald  Wynne  and  Anne  Drum- 
loch,  his  wife."  All  the  titles  had  been  eliminated, 
and  there  was  nothing  to  show  that  the  bride  was 
not  of  plebeian  origin.  Robin  smiled  slightly. 
Was  it  worth  while  to  be  mysterious  with  a  man 
virtually  dead?  He  recalled  that  Peggie  had  made 


88         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

him  promise  to  keep  his  marriage  with  "  my  lady  " 
a  secret,  but  it  was  apparent  that  he  was  not  to  be 
trusted  with  more  of  the  secret  than  was  absolutely 
necessary. 

"  It  is  quite  correct,"  he  said,  laying  the  paper 
down. 

"  Then  let  us  proceed  to  business.  Master  Good- 
ridge,  pray  do  your  office  quickly.  Let  us  have  no 
homilies  on  the  duties  and  pleasures  of  matrimony  " 
—  Sir  Geoffrey  laughed  maliciously  — "  but  make 
the  ceremony  brief  and  binding.  We  will  not  in- 
trude on  your  privacy,"  he  added,  turning  to  Robin, 
"  any  longer  than  is  necessary." 

"  I  am  ready,"  said  Robin  curtly. 

The  ceremony  was  quickly  performed.  Robert 
Gregory  and  Prudence  duly  accepted  each  other  as 
man  and  wife  for  all  the  vicissitudes  of  their  mortal 
life,  severally  vowed  love,  honor  and  all  the  rest  of 
it,  pledged  themselves  by  the  giving  and  receiving 
of  a  ring,  to  share  each  other's  worldly  goods,  and 
finally  received  the  blessing  of  the  church,  borne  on 
the  gin-flavored  breath  of  Parson  Goodridge. 

A  short  ten  minutes  having  sufficed  to  make  the 
Viscount  Brooke's  widow  the  highwayman,  Robin 
Freemantle's,  wife,  the  parson  pocketed  his  dog- 
eared book,  also  a  generous  fee  from  the  bride- 
groom, and-  took  his  departure. 

"  Do  not  forget  to  keep  your  own  counsel,"  Sir 
Geoffrey  warned  him.  "  This  has  been  a  good 
morning's  work  for  you,  Master  Goodridge,  and 
there  is  better  to  come  when  your  testimony  is 
wanted,  if  the  secret  be  well  kept." 


THE  WEDDING  89 

"  I  shall  keep  it,  never  fear ;  I  shall  keep  it," 
mumbled  the  degraded  creature,  already  drunk  in 
anticipation  of  the  glorious  possibilities  of  a  pocket 
so  unusually  well  lined.  "  A  secret  is  the  only 
thing  I  have  ever  learned  to  keep." 

And  he  disappeared,  chuckling  at  his  own  wit. 

"  Now,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  turning  to  Prudence 
with  a  smile,  "  all  that  remains  is  the  pleasant  cere- 
mony of  congratulating  the  bridegroom  and  sa- 
luting the  bride,  and  then  we  had  better  be  going." 

Prue  was  standing  a  little  apart,  with  down- 
cast eyes  and  a  certain  trouble  in  her  pensive  face, 
that  almost  foretokened  tears.  She  drew  back  a 
step  at  Sir  Geoffrey's  words,  and  put  up  her  hand, 
palm-outward. 

"  Let  us  have  no  more  mockery,"  she  said  coldly. 
"  We  have  made  ourselves  quite  contemptible 
enough,  without  further  buffoonery.  So  far  from 
congratulating  the  bridegroom,  we  should  do  bet- 
ter to  apologize  to  him."  She  stamped  her  foot 
slightly  but  positively,  as  he  seemed  disposed  to 
persist.  "  As  to  the  bride,  sir,  for  once  she  is  in 
no  humor  for  folly.  Be  kind  enough  to  take  my 
cousin  out  and  find  a  chair  for  her;  then  you  can 
return  and  see  me  to  my  carriage." 

"  And  leave  you  here  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Where  else  would  you  leave  me  ?  "  she  retorted, 
in  a  jeering  tone.  "  Are  you  afraid  to  leave  me 
with  my  husband?" 

Sir  Geoffrey  would  still  have  lingered  to  remon- 
strate, but  Peggie,  whose  ready  sympathy  divined 
her  cousin's  motive,  placed  her  hand  within  his  arm, 


90         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

and  drawing  her  veil  closely  over  her  face,  an- 
nounced herself  ready  for  departure. 

"  The  gentleman  is  not  my  husband,"  she  re- 
marked demurely.  "  It  would  scarcely  be  proper 
to  leave  me  alone  with  him,  and  you  can  not  escort 
us  both  at  once." 

But  when  they  were  alone,  the  words  of  exten- 
uation Prue  intended  to  speak,  seemed  hard  of 
utterance.  There  was  a  little  lump  in  her  throat, 
and  she  could  think  of  no  commonplace  form  of 
excuse  that  seemed  to  fit  the  occasion.  Robin 
gazed  at  her  as  though  he  wished  to  fill  his  whole 
soul  with  her  image.  Yet,  although  they  were 
scarcely  twenty  inches  apart,  he  made  no  attempt  to 
touch  her. 

"  Morituri  te  salutant,"  he  said,  with  a  curious 
mingling  of  irony  and  tenderness  in  his  voice. 
"  Accept  the  blessing  of  a  dying  man." 

"  Oh !  poor  soul  —  must  thou  really  die  ?  "  sighed 
Prue,  at  last  raising  her  eyes,  filled  with  tears. 

At  the  sight  of  those  sweet,  dewy  eyes,  the  newly 
made  husband  thrilled  in  every  nerve.  "If  those 
tears  are  for  me,  sweet  Prudence,"  he  said,  "  death  is 
not  so  hard  to  bear." 

"  'Tis  sad ;  indeed,  I  would  I  could  do  aught  to 
comfort  thee ! "  she  murmured,  half  turned  away, 
yet  lingering. 

A  dark  flush  swept  his  cheek.  "  I  could  tell  you, 
if  I  dared,  how  to  make  me  forget  everything  but 
—  yourself,"  he  said. 

"  If  you  dared!  "  She  flashed  an  arch  glance  at 
him.  "  On  Bleakmoor,  you  were  not  so  —  so  cere- 


THE  WEDDING  91 

monious,  Sir  Highwayman.  Ask  me  for  what  you 
please.  My  powers  are  limited,  but  I  will  gladly 
do  what  I  can  to  console  you." 

"  An'  thou  wouldst  really  comfort  me,  kiss  me 
once,  as  though  I  were  thy  real  husband  and  thou 
lovedst  me."  He  held  out  his  arms  to  her,  with 
such  prayer  and  such  insistence  in  his  eyes,  that 
Prue,  startled,  hung  back  an  instant,  and  then, 
half  involuntarily,  drooped  toward  him,  and  per- 
mitted herself  to  be  clasped  in  his  passionate  em- 
brace. 

When  she  drew  herself  away,  her  cheeks  were 
rosy-red  and  her  eyes  cast  down.  But  Robin, 
transferring  his  lips  to  her  hand,  fell  on  his  knees 
before  her. 

"Oh!"  he  softly  uttered,  "I  can  bear  to  die 
now.  Death  itself  can  not  rob  me  of  your  kiss." 

"Then  you  forgive  me  for  —  marrying  you?" 
she  said. 

"Forgive  you!  Oh!  if  you  had  killed  me,  I 
could  have  blessed  you,  but  would  not  have  pre- 
sumed to  think  of  pardon,"  he  passionately  breathed, 
"  and  now  — "  Words  failed,  and  his  lips  finished 
the  invocation  on  her  hand. 

She  placed  her  other  hand  gently  on  his  bowed 
head,  and  pressing  it  back,  stooped  and  kissed  him 
on  the  forehead.  It  was  as  pure  and  tender  a  ca- 
ress as  a  mother  could  have  bestowed  on  her  sleep- 
ing babe,  but  it  touched  both  hearts  as  the  most 
passionate  embrace  of  love  could  not  have  done. 
It  was  a  farewell  benediction. 

Not  another  word  was  spoken,   and  when   Sir 


92         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

Geoffrey  returned,  Prue  allowed  him  to  wrap 
her  in  her  cloak  and  hood  and  lead  her  away,  with- 
out even  a  backward  glance  at  Robin,  who,  as  soon 
as  the  door  had  closed  behind  them,  threw  himself 
on  the  floor  where  she  had  stood,  and  gave  way  to 
an  ecstasy  of  recollection,  none  the  less  delicious 
because  there  was  no  future  to  discount  its  bliss. 

When  at  last  he  rose  to  his  feet,  he  gathered  up 
the  manuscript  at  which  he  had  worked  since  day- 
light, and  tore  it  into  fragments. 

"  Since  my  death  will  benefit  her,  I  will  not  at- 
tempt to  live,"  he  exclaimed.  "  She  has  paid  for 
my  life  in  full  and  with  interest,  and  I'll  not  cheat 
her  of  her  bargain." 

He  sat  down,  and  on  his  last  remaining  sheet  of 
paper,  wrote  a  short  letter. 

"  FRIEND  STEVE  : 

"  As  soon  as  I  am  dead  and  according  to  your 
promise  (in  which  I  have  all  confidence),  buried,  as 
we  agreed  together,  you  will  take  the  iron  box  you 
wot  of  and  convey  it  to  Mistress  Prudence  Brooke, 
to  whom  I  bequeath  it,  to  do  whatever  she  will  with 
the  contents.  I  do  not  know  where  this  lady  lives, 
but  you  can  easily  discover  her,  as  she  is  of  the 
court  and  a  lady  of  title,  being  besides  of  a  beauty 
so  incomparable,  that  by  it  alone  you  can  trace  her. 

"  Do  not  grieve  after  me.  We  must  all  die,  and 
I  have  ridden  so  often  with  Death  on  the  pillion, 
that  we  are  old  comrades.  Besides,  I  have  reasons 
that  you  wot  not  of  for  welcoming  him  as  a  bene- 
factor to  others  besides 

"  Your  friend, 

"  ROBIN  FREEMANTLE." 


THE  WEDDING  93 

He  was  sealing  this  missive,  when  the  cell-door 
opened,  and  a  man  of  grave  and  imposing  appear- 
ance was  ushered  in. 

"  I  am  Lord  Beachcombe's  attorney,"  he  an- 
nounced himself,  "  and  at  his  command,  I  come  to 
confer  with  you  about  the  strange  statement  you 
made  to  him  yesterday.  He  has  given  me  his  full 
confidence,  and  empowered  me  to  make  terms  with 
you,  if  I  find  it  advisable." 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  FOLLY   OF   YESTERDAY 

PRUE  came  home  late  that  afternoon,  in  the 
wildest  of  spirits.  Her  return  to  society  had 
been  a  genuine  triumph,  and  even  her  enemies 
and  detractors,  who  had  been  successful  in  ousting 
her  from  royal  favor  and  keeping  her  in  disgrace 
for  a  year  or  more,  had  been  compelled  to  join  in 
the  chorus  of  welcome  and  feign,  if  they  did  not 
feel,  a  decent  pleasure  in  her  reinstatement. 

Lady  Drumloch,  who  was  still  unable  to  leave 
her  room,  as  soon  as  she  heard  Prue's  voice,  de- 
spatched Lowton  with  a  message,  commanding  her 
granddaughter  to  repair  instantly  to  her  and  give 
a  full  account  of  the  day's  adventures. 

"  Can  you  picture  the  effect,  if  we  obeyed  her 
to  the  letter  ? "  whispered  Peggie.  "  I  wonder 
how  she  would  take  the  announcement  of  your — " 
Prue  clapped  her  hand  quickly  over  her  mouth, 
at  which  Peggie  indulged  in  a  convulsion  of  silent 
laughter,  indicating  by  signs  and  gestures  the  tri- 
umphant sense  of  power  conferred  on  her,  by  the 
knowledge  of  her  cousin's  tremendous  secret. 

Checking  her  exuberance  by  an  imperious  glance, 
Prue  followed  Lowton  into  the  sick-room,  where 
the  old  lady  reclined  on  a  couch,  near  a  bright  fire. 
A  look  of  real  delight  sparkled  in  the  old  lady's  eyes 

94 


THE  FOLLY  OF  YESTERDAY         95 

when  they  fell  upon  Prue's  graceful  figure  and  ani- 
mated face. 

"  Come  hither,  child,"  she  cried ;  "  kiss  me  and 
let  me  bless  thee.  Truly,  Prudence,  thou  dost  often 
vex  my  pride  with  thy  folli.es,  but  thou  dost  always 
charm  my  eyes.  What  said  the  duchess  to  you? 
Did  she  chide  ?  " 

"  No  such  thing,  dear  Grandmother.  I  have 
heard  no  word  to-day  but  dear  Prue  this;  sweet 
Lady  Prue  that.  Her  grace  kissed  me  on  the 
cheek  and  cried  out  how  pleasant  it  was,  for  once, 
to  be  able  to  kiss  a  face  fresh  from  nature,  without 
having  to  pick  out  a  spot  where  the  paint  and 
powder  were  not  thick  enough  to  poison  one.  And 
Fm  not  surprised,  for  half  the  women  there  were 
plastered  so  thick,  'twas  like  a  frescoed  wall,  and 
one  looked  to  see  it  crack  when  they  smiled.  The 
duchess  was  not  much  better  herself;  but  she  was 
all  smiles  and  affability,  and  all  my  intimate  ene- 
mies took  the  cue  and  overwhelmed  me  with  flat- 
teries, and  Lord  Ripworth  lisped  out,  '  Gad,  Vis- 
countess, nothing  happier  than  your  return  has 
occurred  in  three  months.  We  have  been  so  dull, 
that  we  have  taken  to  religion  as  a  diversion;  now 
your  ladyship  has  come  back  to  court,  we  shall,  at 
least,  have  something  to  talk  about." 

"  The  varlet !  His  mother  was  a  chambermaid, 
and  if  people  did  not  talk  about  her,  it  was  because 
anything  that  could  be  said  was  too  gross  for  utter- 
ance. I  trust  you  set  him  down  thoroughly." 

"  Oh !  no ;  I  was  bent  on  showing  how  amiable 
I  had  grown  in  the  country.  I  only  remarked  that 


96         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

whatever  he  might  talk  about,  I  had  never  heard 
him  accused  of  saying  anything  of  consequence. 
There  was  a  large  party  to  dinner,  and  I  heard  all 
the  gossip.  First,  Lady  Beachcombe  has  presented 
her  spouse  with  a  son  and  heir." 

"  'Tis  your  own  fault,  Prudence,  that  such  an 
event  is  naught  but  gossip  to  you,"  said  Lady 
Drumloch  severely. 

"  Oh !  la,  la !  no  one  can  accuse  me  of  an  en- 
vious disposition,"  laughed  Prue.  "  Lady  Beach- 
combe  is  welcome  to  all  the  honors  of  her  position. 
I  would  not  have  changed  places  with  her  this  after- 
noon for  a  dukedom,  to  say  nothing  of  the  privi- 
lege of  nursing  Lord  Beachcombe's  heir." 

"  Perhaps  'tis  all  for  the  best,"  the  old  lady  con- 
ceded. "  The  present  earl  is  a  turn-coat,  like  his 
father,  who  came  of  a  loyal  stock,  and  was  so 
devoted  to  the  throne  that  he  offered  his  allegiance 
to  every  successive  usurper  of  it.  I  would  rather 
see  you  married  to  an  honorable  Jacobite,  who 
could  use  your  influence  at  court  for  the  cause  of 
King  James  the  Third." 

"  The  De  Cliffes  are  all  mauvais  sujets,  are  they 
not?"  queried  Margaret  innocently. 

"  No,  child,  there  have  been  De  Cliffes  as  loyal 
as  the  Drumlochs  and  Wynnes ;  De  Cliffes  who  were 
worthy  to  aspire  to  the  hand  of  a  woman  whose 
forefathers  laid  down  their  lives  for  Charles  the 
Martyr.  Unfortunately,  of  late  generations,  the 
scum  has  risen  to  the  top  in  more  families  than  the 
Beachcombes." 

"  Well,  dear  Grannie,  as  you  think  so  ill  of  Lord 


THE  FOLLY  OF  YESTERDAY         97 

Beachcombe,  'tis  as  well,  perhaps,  that  circum- 
stances prevented  my  marrying  him,  and  left  me 
free  for  at  least  one  more  season  to  enjoy  life," 
said  Prue ;  "  and  truly,  never  had  I  better  reason 
to  value  my  freedom  than  to-day." 

"  You  have  not  told  us  yet  what  you  did  this 
afternoon,"  cried  Peggie,  to  whom  her  cousin's  tri- 
umphs always  gave  intense  and  unselfish  enjoyment. 

"After  dinner,  the  duchess  dismissed  her  guests, 
and  accompanied  by  Lady  Limerick  and  myself, 
drove  to  Kensington  Palace,  where  we  had  audi- 
ence of  the  queen.  Her  Majesty  was  extremely 
gracious,  and  appeared  to  have  forgotten  all  my 
peccadilloes.  She  inquired  if  I  still  played  the  gui- 
tar, and  when  I  sang  one  or  two  ballads  composed 
by  Herr  Haendel  —  whose  music  is  now  quite  the 
rage  —  was  pleased  to  observe  that  I  must  come  to 
Windsor  in  the  summer,  and  sing  to  her  in  the 
twilight.  After  that  we  played  basset.  'Twas  a 
dull  finish  to  the  day,  for  the  queen  fell  asleep  and 
nobody  dared  waken  her,  so  the  game  was  not  very 
lively." 

"If  you  go  to  Windsor,  'twill  be  as  lady-in- 
waiting,  surely,"  said  Peggie. 

"  The  duchess  will  do  her  utmost  for  me,  but 
she  is  less  powerful  than  formerly.  Mrs.  Masham, 
whom  she  placed  about  the  queen's  person  to 
further  her  interests,  has  completely  secured  the 
queen's  confidence,  and  means  to  use  it  to  her  own 
profit.  I  think  the  duchess  would  like  to  use  me  to 
check  Mrs.  Masham." 

"  Sarah  Churchill  would  scarcely  be  so  gracious 


98         THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

to  any  one  she  did  not  expect  to  serve  her  in  some 
fashion,"  said  Lady  Drumloch.  "  Well,  my  dear, 
I  wish  thee  good  fortune.  Be  wise  this  time,  and 
do  not  let  thy  wild  spirits  wrong  thee." 

Prue  became  suddenly  pale  as  death.  "  'Tis 
late  in  the  day  for  me  to  become  wise,"  she  said, 
in  a  low,  wild  voice.  "  Oh !  Grannie,  Grannie,  I'm 
afraid  I  have  given  you  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  and 
the  worst  of  me  is  yet  to  come !  " 

The  old  lady  raised  herself  on  her  arm,  and  gazed 
with  a  look  of  terror  into  Prue's  disturbed  face. 
"  What  have  you  done,  child  ?  Let  me  hear  the 
worst  at  once !  " 

"  Tis  nothing,"  interposed  Peggie,  putting  her 
arm  round  her  cousin,  and  drawing  her  gently  but 
forcibly  away.  "  She  is  excited  and  overwrought, 
and  methinks  she  has  quarreled  with  Sir  Geof- 
frey—" 

"Is  that  all?"  ejaculated  Lady  Drumloch,  sink- 
ing back  with  a  laugh  that  ended  in  a  groan  of  pain. 
"I'll  forgive  that  easily  enough ;  he  is  no  choice  of 
mine,  and  now  Prudence  is  back  at  court,  'tis  odd 
if  she  can  not  do  better  than  marry  a  bankrupt 
baronet." 

"  Better  or  worse,"  cried  Prue  passionately, 
"  I'll  never  marry  him ;  I'd  rather  marry  a  —  a 
highwayman." 

Peggie  gave  her  arm  a  vicious  pinch,  but  the 
comparison  was  so  monstrously  improbable,  that 
Lady  Drumloch  did  not  deign  to  take  any  notice 
of  it. 

"  You  were  very  much  in  love  with  Sir  Geoffrey 


THE  FOLLY  OF  YESTERDAY         99 

a  week  ago,"  she  remarked  austerely,  "  but  your 
fickleness  appears  to  have  no  limit." 

"  Dear  Grandmother ! "  exclaimed  Prue,  recov- 
ering her  self-control,  "  'tis  not  fickleness,  but  sim- 
ply the  result  of  sound  reasoning.  I  love  certain 
qualities,  and  while  I  believed  Sir  Geoffrey  pos- 
sessed them,  I  loved  him  for  their  sake.  I  am  still 
faithful  to  the  thing  I  love ;  but,  unfortunately,  Sir 
Geoffrey  has  it  not,  at  least,  not  enough  of  it  for 
me.  But  let  us  not  despair;  the  Duchess  of  Marl- 
borough  is  determined  to  marry  me  off,  and  has 
been  graciously  pleased  to  select  a  husband  for  me." 

"  Indeed,  and  who  may  he  be  ?  " 

"  I  know  not ;  his  name  is  still  a  secret.  I  have, 
indeed,  a  suspicion  that  it  may  be  Lord  Beach- 
combe's  new-born  heir,  for  she  remarked  that  by 
the  time  her  choice  was  ready  for  presentation  to 
me,  I  might  perhaps  be  settled  down,  and  sobered 
sufficiently  to  make  a  tolerable  wife-of -sorts !  " 

Peggie,  watching  her  cousin  closely,  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  she  was  talking  nonsense  to  keep 
herself  from  thinking,  and  at  the  first  opportunity, 
coaxed  her  out  of  the  room  and  away  from  the 
danger  of  betraying  herself  to  Lady  Drumloch, 
whose  keen  wits  and  close  observation  were  the 
more  to  be  dreaded,  the  less  she  displayed  them. 

As  a  result  of  the  report  of  Prue's  return  to 
court,  and  her  flattering  welcome  there,  the  shabby 
little  drawing-rooms  of  her  grandmother's  house 
were  crowded  that  evening  and  all  next  day,  by 
those  who  hastened  to  offer  congratulations  and 
make  excuses  for  neglect  that  she  was  too  thorough 


TOO       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

a  woman  of  the  world  to  resent.  The  throng  of 
courtiers  found  her,  indeed,  most  accessible.  She 
had  a  jest  and  a  compliment  and  a  friendly  word 
for  every  one.  Arch  glances  and  enchanting  smiles 
fell  alike  on  friend  and  foe ;  perhaps  more  especially 
on  the  latter,  as  Prue,  for  once,  attempted  to  follow 
her  grandmother's  instructions,  and  be  wise! 

Long  after  midnight,  the  tired  girls  performed 
the  last  sweeping  curtseys  to  their  parting  guests, 
and  leaving  the  yawning  James  to  extinguish  the 
lights,  crawled  wearily  up  the  long,  narrow  stair- 
way to  their  attic  bedrooms.  Peggie,  bursting  with 
long-suppressed  curiosity,  offered  her  services  to 
unlace  her  cousin  from  the  stiff  prison  of  whale- 
bone and  buckram  in  which  her  slender  form  had 
been  encased  for  so  many  hours,  and  unpin  the 
luxuriant  curls  and  puffs  from  the  cushion  upon 
which  the  hair-dresser  had  disposed  them  early  in 
the  morning.  Prue  sighed  with  relief  as  Peggie, 
regardless  of  her  own  fatigue,  removed  the  mon- 
strously high-heeled  shoes  and  filmy  silken  hose, 
and  rubbed  her  cramped  feet  until  they  ceased  to 
tingle  and  smart  with  the  restored  circulation,  but 
vowed  she  was  too  tired  to  talk,  and,  moreover, 
had  nothing  to  tell  but  what  Peggie  already  knew. 

"What  said  Robin,  when  we  left  you  alone?" 
Peggie  whispered.  "  Did  I  keep  Sir  Geoffrey  long 
enough  finding  me  a  chair?  I  sent  three  away  be- 
fore I  could  be  satisfied  that  the  chair  was  clean 
and  the  chairman  sober." 

"  Long  enough  for  all  we  had  to  say,"  said  Prue 
pettishly.  "  Do  you  suppose  we  were  exchanging 


THE  FOLLY  OF  YESTERDAY        101 

vows  of  eternal  fidelity,  or  arranging  for  our  next 
meeting?"  Then,  pathetically,  "If  you  were  as 
tired  as  I  am,  Peggie,  you  would  rather  be  in  bed 
than  gossiping,  and  to-morrow  we  are  going  to 
Lady  Limerick's  drum,  and  the  play  afterward, 
and  want  to  look  our  prettiest ;  so  kiss  me,  dear  coz, 
and  get  thee  to  bed." 

Nor  was  she  more  communicative  the  next  day. 
From  early  morning,  the  house  was  besieged  by  a 
procession  of  apologetic  tradesfolk,  eager  to  explain 
away  their  threatening  letters  and  dunning  mes- 
sages, and  placing  themselves  and  their  wares  at 
the  disposal  of  the  reinstated  favorite.  No  talk 
now  of  the  Fleet  and  the  sponging-house  —  no 
more  writs  and  suits  —  nothing  but  dapper  tailors 
and  coquettish  milliners'  assistants,  suave  jewelers 
and  mysterious,  ill-shaven  foreigners  with  dirty 
parcels  from  which  they  extracted,  under  vows  of 
secrecy,  laces  from  France  or  Flanders,  or  em- 
broideries from  the  distant  Indies,  such  as  might 
have  tempted  the  most  austere  of  Eve's  daughters 
to  break  at  least  one  of  the  ten  commandments. 

And  in  the  midst  of  all  this  excitement,  Lady 
Prue  flitted,  bubbling  over  with  mirth  and  tri- 
umph. Her  bright  presence  lighted  up  the  sick- 
room, and  under  its  influence,  Lady  Drumloch 
declared  she  would  be  carried  down-stairs  on  Sunday 
to  receive  callers,  and  that  before  a  week  was  over, 
she  would  be  strong  enough  to  drive  to  Kensington 
Palace  and  pay  her  respects  at  the  queen's  next 
drawing-room.  She  bade  Peggie  fetch  her  jewel- 
casket  and  try  the  effect  of  her  antiquated  diadems 


102       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

and  brooches  upon  herself  and  Prue,  and  spent 
an  hour  or  two  deciding  which  of  them  the  emeralds 
would  best  become,  and  which  one  ought  to  have 
the  amethysts.  Finally,  however,  the  matter  was 
left  undecided,  and  except  that  she  bestowed  the 
promised  pearls  upon  Prue  and  a  filagree  bracelet 
upon  Margaret,  the  casket  was  relentlessly  restored 
intact  to  its  hiding-place. 

All  day  long,  Peggie  watched  her  cousin,  with- 
out being  able  to  detect  the  faintest  sign  of  com- 
punction, or  even  recollection  of  the  folly  of  yester- 
day and  the  tragedy  that  would  crown  it  in  a  few 
hours.  At  Lady  Limerick's  drum,  she  led  the 
scandal  and  laughter,  as  of  old,  and  at  the  play,  sat 
in  her  modest  little  box  with  Margaret  beside  her, 
and  an  ever-changing  crowd  of  beaux  behind  her 
chair.  Sir  Geoffrey  came  late,  and  had  scarcely 
time  to  greet  her,  when  a  message  called  her  to 
the  Duchess  of  Marlborough,  in  whose  box  she 
spent  the  rest  of  the  evening. 

He  did  not  venture  to  follow  there,  uninvited,  so 
it  was  not  until  the  play  was  over  that  he  found  an 
opportunity  to  address  her.  He  was  waiting  at  the 
carriage  door  to  hand  her  in,  and  without  giving 
her  time  to  object,  followed  and  took  his  seat  beside 
her. 

"  Do  you  not  see  my  cousin  sitting  with  her  back 
to  the  horses?  "  inquired  Prue,  in  the  most  freezing 
tone,  as  she  drew  herself  as  far  as  possible  from 
him. 

"Pardon  my  inadvertence,  Miss  Moffat!"  he 
exclaimed,  in  a  tone  less  gracious  than  his  words, 


THE  FOLLY  OF  YESTERDAY       103 

and  bouncing  over  to  the  other  seat   in   a  great 
hurry. 

"  Never  mind  me,"  said  Peggie,  stifling  a  laugh. 
"  I  prefer  the  front  seat." 

"  So  much  the  better  for  me,"  remarked  Prue, 
coolly  spreading  out  her  voluminous  skirts.  "  Did 
you  see  the  Spectator  to-day,  Sir  Geoffrey?  No? 
You  must  read  it;  the  article  about  Lady  Beach- 
combe  and  the  new  heir  will  make  you  die  of  laugh- 
ing. You  were  too  late,  I  think,  to  see  the  begin- 
ning of  Mr.  Congreve's  new  play ;  how  do  you  like 
the  end  ?  Very  sentimental,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  I  can  not  say  I  noticed  it,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey 
sulkily;  "  I  was  thinking  of  other  things." 

"  Then  why  come  to  the  play  to  think  of  other 
things?"  she  inquired  innocently.  "  'Tis  an  ill 
compliment  to  Mr.  Congreve." 

"  When  Lady  Prudence  Brooke  is  present,  Mr. 
Congreve  can  not  expect  to  attract  much  attention," 
said  Sir  Geoffrey,  with  an  effort  to  recover  his 
customary  gallant  bearing.  "  Do  not  blame  me  too 
severely  if  I  am  unable  to  keep  my  thoughts  from 
you,  even  at  the  play,  dearest  Prue." 

As  they  arrived  in  Mayfair  at  this  moment,  Prue 
was  spared  the  effort  of  a  retort.  Peggie,  alighting 
first,  ran  into  the  house,  leaving  Sir  Geoffrey  to  es- 
cort her  cousin,  but  a±  the  door  of  the  drawing-room 
Prue  stopped. 

"  I  am  very  tired,  Sir  Geoffrey,"  she  said,  at- 
tempting to  withdraw  her  hand  from  his  clasp, 
"  and  must  beg  you  to  excuse  me  this  evening. 
My  cousin  Margaret  will  entertain  you." 


104       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  She  will  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  said  a  laugh- 
ing voice  from  above ;  "  Cousin  Margaret  is  on  her 
way  to  bed !  " 

"  Then  I  will  ask  you  to  excuse  me,  Sir  Geoffrey, 
if  I  follow  Peggie's  example.  I  have  lost  the  habits 
of  gay  London  life,  and  two  days  of  it  have  made 
me  almost  sick  with  fatigue." 

"  Give  me  but  five  minutes,"  he  entreated,  "  and 
I  swear  I'll  detain  you  no  longer."  He  opened  the 
door  as  he  spoke  and  led  her  into  the  room,  in 
which  a  single  lamp,  turned  low,  emphasized  the 
darkness. 

She  stood  facing  him  without  a  word.  Sud- 
denly he  tried  to  take  her  in  his  arms,  but  she  re- 
pulsed him  with  a  gesture  almost  of  horror.  "  You 
forget,  Sir  Geoffrey,"  she  said,  "  that  I  am  the  wife 
of  another  man." 

He  laughed  ironically.  "Is  it  possible  that  you 
are  taking  this  farce  seriously  ?  I  feared  I  had  had 
the  misfortune  to  offend  you,  and  am  relieved  to 
find  that  nothing  worse  has  come  between  us  than 
Robin  Freemantle." 

"  That  is  enough  for  the  present,"  she  said. 
"  While  one  man  can  call  me  wife,  all  other  men 
must  keep  their  distance." 

"  Even  your  betrothed  lover,  Prudence  ? "  he 
pleaded  reproachfully. 

"  You  more  than  any  one,"  she  replied  resolutely. 
"Without  you,  I  could  not  have  married  this  un- 
fortunate man,  and  you  should,  at  least,  respect 
the  wife  you  helped  him  to." 

"  Heaven  give  me  patience ! "  he  cried,  exasper- 


THE  FOLLY  OF  YESTERDAY        105 

ated.  "  Do  you  really  look  upon  yourself  as  the 
wife  of  this  gallows-bird?  Pray,  do  you  propose 
to  don  widow's  weeds  on  Monday?  " 

A  shudder  quivered  through  her.  "  I  don't 
know  what  I  shall  do  on  Monday,"  she  said,  in  a 
low,  strained  voice,  and  ran  out  of  the  room  and 
up-stairs  without  another  thought  of  Sir  Geoffrey. 

He  waited  for  a  few  minutes,  in  hopes  of  her 
return,  and  then  went  down  and  let  himself  out 
into  the  moonlit  street. 


CHAPTER  XI 
THE  MORROW'S  WAKENING 

BEFORE  Sunday  evening,  Peggie  really  lost 
patience  with  Prue.  She  was  so  saucy  and 
coquettish,  so  bubbling  over  with  merry  stories  and 
foolish  jests,  that  even  in  church  she  could  not  keep 
still,  but  fluttered  her  fan  and  whispered  behind  it 
to  Peggie,  until  that  lively  damsel  was  quite 
ashamed  of  her  levity.  Not  one  word  could  she  be 
induced  to  say  about  Robin.  Astonished  at  her  in- 
difference, Peggie  tried  in  a  variety  of  ways  to  en- 
trap her  into  some  expression  of  feeling  about  him, 
but  she  became  impatient  under  questions,  and  re- 
ceived any  suggestions  of  sympathy  with  cold  flip- 
pancy or  even  more  provoking  silence. 

All  the  afternoon,  a  stream  of  visitors  poured 
through  the  little  house  in  May  fair.  Superb  equi- 
pages and  sumptuous  sedan-chairs  blocked  the 
thoroughfare,  while  their  occupants,  in  gorgeous 
array,  offered  their  congratulations  to  the  Lady 
Prudence,  and  sipped  weak  tea  and  chocolate  out  of 
her  grandmother's  egg-shell  "  chancy  "  cups.  Lady 
Drumloch  did  not  venture  into  such  a  crowd,  but, 
decked  in  her  priceless  cashmeres  and  laces,  re- 
ceived a  favored  few  in  her  dressing-room,  and 
listened  with  a  flush  of  pride  on  her  pale  face  to 
the  praises  of  Prue's  beauty  and  the  prognosti- 

106 


THE  MORROW'S  WAKENING        107 

cations  of  a  future  even  more  brilliant  and  eventful 
than  her  past. 

(<  You  must  persuade  her  to  marry  well  and  set- 
tle down,  dear  cousin,"  Lady  Limerick  advised. 
"  Twenty-two  is  quite  old  enough,  even  for  a 
widow,  to  give  up  frivolous  flirtations  and  choose 
a  husband.  The  men  are  all  wild  about  her,  I 
know;  but  if  she  jilts  a  few  more  of  them,  the  rest 
will  get  frightened  and  leave  her  in  the  lurch,  and 
she  will  have  to  be  satisfied  with  a  crooked  stick, 
like  many  another  spoilt  beauty." 

"  She  must  please  herself,"  Lady  Drumloch  re- 
plied. "  The  harder  she  finds  it  to  choose  before 
marriage,  the  less  likely  she  will  be  to  repent  after- 
ward." 

For  all  that  the  old  lady  took  occasion  to  read 
her  granddaughter  a  sharp  lecture  upon  the  neces- 
sity of  mending  her  ways  before  too  late.  To 
which,  Prue  listened  reverentially,  and  promised 
speedy  amendment.  Five  minutes  afterward,  in 
the  privacy  of  their  own  room,  she  was  making 
Peggie  die  of  laughter  at  her  caricature  of  herself 
as  a  reformed  character,  with  all  her  fascinating 
caprices  exchanged  for  the  cares  of  the  nursery  and 
still-room,  obedience  to  a  tyrannical  spouse  replac- 
ing her  sway  over  a  score  of  suitors,  while  she 
wielded  Mrs.  Grundy's  birch  instead  of  defying  it. 
Not  one  solemn  or  repentant  thought  clouded  the 
laughter  of  her  blue  eyes,  and  when  her  cousin 
kissed  her  good  night  and  bade  her  sleep  well,  she 
cried  out : 

"Why,    I'm    two-thirds    asleep    already,"    and 


io8       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

turned  upon  her  pillow  with  a  sigh  of  voluptuous 
drowsiness. 

But  in  the  night,  Peggie,  who  always  slept  with 
the  communicating  door  open  between  the  two 
rooms,  was  awakened  by  a  sound  so  strange  and 
unaccustomed,  that  her  heart  stood  still  for  a  mo- 
ment, with  awe.  From  the  little  white  bed, 
wherein  Prue  usually  slept  as  calmly  as  a  child, 
came  sounds  of  grievous  weeping,  sighs  and  sobs 
and  broken  words  of  self-reproach,  and  prayers 
for  pardon  for  herself  and  pity  for  one  in  ex- 
tremity. 

Peggie  started  from  her  bed  and  crept  stealthily 
to  the  door,  where  she  was  not  long  discovering 
the  cause  of  this  unexpected  outbreak. 

"Oh!  if  I  could  only  once  ask  him  to  forgive 
me,"  Prue  sobbed.  "Oh!  Robin,  Robin,  I  did 
not  want  you  to  love  me;  I  did  not  mean  to  be 
cruel.  My  God!  he  will  die  without  knowing  — 
oh !  me,  oh !  me  — " 

"  Poor  little  Prue,  how  unjust  I  have  been," 
thought  Peggy  remorsefully.  "  I  was  past  all 
patience  with  her  heartless  indifference,  and  here 
she  is  breaking  her  heart  over  a  frolic  marriage 
with  a  highwayman !  " 

She  crept  in  quietly,  and  lying  down  beside  Prue, 
put  her  arms  round  the  little  quivering  form  and 
drew  the  tear-damp  face  upon  her  kindly  bosom. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Prue  ?  Don't  cry  so 
dreadfully,"  she  said,  soothing  and  petting  her. 
"  There,  there,  be  comforted,  darling.  You  are  not 
to  blame.  We  persuaded  you,  and  after  all  Robin 


THE  MORROW'S  WAKENING        109 

is  none  the  worse  for  knowing  he  leaves  some  one 
behind  to  weep  for  him." 

"  But  he  doesn't  know  it.  How  can  he  ? " 
sobbed  Prue.  "  He  thinks  me  a  heartless,  mer- 
cenary coquette  —  just  as  Sir  Geoffrey  does,  and 
you,  too.  You  know  you  thought  so,  Peggie  — " 

Margaret  was  conscience-stricken,  but  could  not 
deny  it.  "  I  know  you  are  a  dear  little  thing,  Prue, 
and  though  I  thought  yesterday  you  did  not  care, 
I  know  better  now.  I'm  so  sorry  for  you,  dear. 
Your  poor  head  is  so  hot  and  your  hands  are  so 
cold.  You'll  be  sick  to-morrow,  and  after  all,  it 
isn't  your  fault." 

Prudence  threw  her  arms  round  her  and  buried 
her  face  on  her  shoulder  in  a  fresh  burst  of  tears. 

"  Oh !  Peggie,  I  am  a  very  wicked  woman,  I 
fear,"  she  sobbed.  "  Can  anything  be  worse  than 
to  make  a  solemn  vow  before  God  to  love  and 
honor  a  man  I  do  not  mean  ever  to  see  again  —  to 
swear  to  keep  him  in  sickness  and  poverty,  when  all 
I  wish  for  is  that  he  may  die  a  violent  death  to 
save  me  from  my  just  debts?  Oh!  no,  no.  I  do 
not  wish  it,  Peggie.  The  man  loves  me!  If  ever 
I  saw  love  in  a  man's  eyes,  it  was  when  Robin  held 
me  in  his  arms  and  prayed  me  give  him  one  kiss 
and  then  forget  him!  Alas,  Peggie,  I  can  never 
forget  him!  He  will  haunt  me  with  those  eyes 
that  can  look  death  in  the  face  without  blenching, 
and  yet  will  be  closed  for  ever  in  a  few  hours.  Oh! 
Peggie,  Peggie,  he  must  not  die  for  me." 

"  He  does  not  die  for  you,  dear  Prue.  He  dies 
for  his  crimes.  Faith,  I'm  sorry  for  it,  though  he 


no       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

isn't  my  husband.  But  think  what  a  plight  you 
would  be  in  if  he  were  to  live ! "  Peggie  remon- 
strated. 

Prue  looked  at  her  like  a  child  suddenly  roused 
from  sleep  and  finding  its  way  back  gradually  from 
dreamland. 

"  Tis  true,"  she  gasped.  "  What  would  become 
of  me?" 

"  You  are  his  wife,"  Peggie  went  on,  "  and  as 
long  as  he  lives  you  can  not  marry  any  one  else.  As 
to  your  debts  —  if  he  were  not  to  die,  he  would 
have  to  pay  them  or  go  to  prison." 

"  Oh,  Peggie,  stop !  Every  word  you  say  makes 
me  hate  myself  worse  and  worse.  I  must  have  been 
mad  to  marry  a  robber  —  a  man  who  forced  a  kiss 
from  me  at  the  point  of  a  pistol,  as  it  were,  and  yet 
now  he  is  my  husband  I  can  not,  dare  not,  wish  him 
dead." 

"If  you  wished  it  ever  so  much,  dear,  you  could 
neither  help  nor  hinder  it,"  Peggie  began  consol- 
ingly. 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  cried  Prue,  raising 
herself  on  her  elbow  and  speaking  excitedly.  "  Do 
you  know  last  night  when  I  was  in  the  duchess' 
box  I  had  more  than  half  a  mind  to  fall  on  my 
knees  before  her  and  own  everything  and  implore 
her  to  save  Robin's  life  — '" 

"  Great  Heaven !  "  gasped  Peggie.  "  What  on 
earth  do  you  suppose  she  would  have  done  to  you  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  I  care 
much,"  sighed  Prue,  sinking  back  on  her  pillow. 
"  But  I'm  a  wretched  coward  at  heart,  and  a  lump 


THE  MORROW'S  WAKENING        in 

came  up  in  my  throat  and  stifled  the  words,  and  all 
I  could  say  when  she  saw  the  tears  running  down 
my  face  was  some  foolishness  about  the  play  being 
so  affecting,  when  every  one  round  me  was  laugh- 
ing and  I  didn't  even  know  what  the  actors  were 
talking  about." 

"What  did  the  duchess  say?"  asked  Peggie, 
eager  for  all  the  information  she  could  obtain  while 
her  cousin  was  in  the  mood  to  tell  it. 

"  That  I  was  a  little  fool.  And  Lord  Ripworth 
said,  '  Not  at  all,  that  I  wanted  them  to  see  how 
lovely  I  looked  in  tears.'  And  they  all  joked  me 
until  I  would  rather  have  been  hanged  myself  than 
hinted  at  anything  tragic  in  my  life." 

Peggie  assured  her  that  it  was  much  better  as  it 
was  and  that  nothing  would  have  come  of  such  a 
self -betrayal  but  scandal  and  disgrace  that  would 
have  broken  their  grandmother's  heart  and  banished 
them  for  ever  from  society.  Then  she  kissed  and 
petted  her  until  she  fell  asleep,  much  as  a  grieved 
and  frightened  child  might  do,  with  long-drawn 
sighs  and  broken  sobs  gradually  softening  into  the 
tranquil  respiration  of  dreamless  repose. 

But  there  was  the  morrow's  waking  to  come,  and 
it  came  to  Prue  with  a  sudden  sweep  of  con- 
sciousness and  recollection  that  scorched  her  brain 
and  stopped  the  beating  of  her  heart.  The  clock 
on  the  mantel  chimed  the  half-hour,  and  starting 
up  in  a  panic  she  saw  that  the  hands  pointed  to 
half-past  seven. 

And  Robin  Freemantle  was  to  die  at  eight  o'clock. 
Even  now  he  was  on  the  way  to  Tyburn,  shackled 


ii2       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

to  other  malefactors  in  the  dreadful  cart  which  he 
would  never  leave  alive.  Even  now  the  mob  was 
jeering  him  and  his  wretched  companions  and  gloat- 
ing over  the  prospect  of  the  "  last  dying  speeches 
and  confessions  "  which  were  expected  to  play  so 
important  a  part  in  the  morning's  entertainment. 
Four  of  them  were  to  be  hanged  that  morning  — 
two  coiners,  a  house-breaker  and  —  Prue's  Hus- 
band! The  hideousness  of  the  thought  struck  her 
again  with  an  agony  of  shame  that  tingled  in  every 
nerve  and  for  the  moment  dried  the  tears  upon  her 
burning  face. 

She  heard  Peggie  moving  in  the  next  room  and 
sprang  out  of  bed,  dashing  cold  water  over  her  face 
and  head  in  feverish  haste  to  wash  off  the  tears  and 
cool  down  the  turgid  blood  that  throbbed  in  her 
temples  and  crimsoned  her  cheeks. 

Just  then  the  clock  struck  eight.  A  neighboring 
church-clock  took  up  the  chime,  and  then  another 
at  a  little  distance.  It  was  Robin's  death-knell. 
Prue  groped  blindly  a  few  steps  and  then,  with 
a  low,  wailing  cry,  fell  on  the  floor  in  a  deathly 
swoon. 

Peggie  ran  in  and  by  main  force  lifted  her  up 
and  laid  her  on  the  bed.  The  application  of  such 
simple  remedies  as  cold  water  and  hartshorn  soon 
brought  back  consciousness,  and  with  it  floods  of 
tears  and  such  heart-broken  lamentations  that  Peg- 
gie began  to  ask  herself  whether  there  could  be  any 
magic  in  the  marriage  service  to  make  a  widow 
mourn  so  bitterly  for  a  husband  she  had  only  seen 
on  two  occasions,  and  masked  on  one  of  those! 


THE  MORROW'S  WAKENING       113 

She  wisely  refrained  from  investigating  the  source 
of  Prue's  emotion  however,  rightly  judging  that 
the  more  completely  she  gave  way  to  it  the  quicker 
it  would  wear  itself  out. 

In  fact,  after  an  hour  or  so  the  violence  of  her 
grief  subsided,  leaving  her  pale  and  languid  and 
much  disposed  to  pity  herself  as  in  some  mysterious 
way  very  cruelly  used  by  fate  and  altogether  a  most 
interesting  victim. 

In  this  frame  of  mind  she  insisted  upon  rum- 
maging out  a  black  dress  and  arranging  her  curly 
locks  in  as  subdued  a  fashion  as  their  luxuriance 
and  natural  wil fulness  would  submit  to.  Then  she 
permitted  Peggie  to  lead  her  down-stairs. 

Behind  the  dining-room  there  was  a  dingy,  sun- 
less little  library  looking  out  upon  a  few  feet  of 
neglected  back-yard  and  the  blank  wall  of  a  neigh- 
boring mansion.  To  this  penitential  apartment 
Prue  retired,  delegating  to  Peggie  the  task  of 
receiving  her  callers  and  making  what  excuses  she 
pleased  for  her  absence. 

"  Say  I  am  ill ;  say  I  am  dead ;  say  whatever 
you  think  will  get  rid  of  them  quickest,  Peggie, 
but  don't  let  them  imagine  that  I  am  unhappy,  for 
that  is  the  deadliest  breach  of  good-manners  and 
would  make  me  an  object  of  ridicule." 

"  Well,  promise  me  you  will  not  fret  any  more," 
besought  Peggie,  caressing  her.  "  Your  sweet  eyes 
are  all  puffed  up  and  you  won't  be  fit  for  the  mas- 
querade ball  if  you  cry  any  more." 

Prue  promised  to  control  herself,  and  by  way 
of  keeping  her  word  threw  herself  on  the  floor  be- 


114       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

fore  the  door  closed  upon  her  cousin,  and  flinging 
her  arms  out  upon  the  seat  of  a  chair,  laid  her  face 
upon  them  and  gave  way  to  quieter  and  more  sub- 
dued, but  not  less  bitter  weeping. 

She  had  not  long  been  thus  when  the  door  opened 
and  some  one  looked  in.  Thinking  that  she  was 
being  sought  for  and  sure  that  where  she  lay  she 
was  safely  hidden,  she  kept  very  still. 

"  Will  you  wait  in  here,  sir,  until  I  inquire  if 
her  ladyship  can  see  you  ?  "  said  James,  the  butler. 
"What  name  shall  I  say?" 

"  It  would  be  useless  to  give  my  name,"  replied 
a  deep  voice;  "or  stay,  you  can  say  I  bring  tid- 
ings from  Bleakmoor." 

As  the  door  closed,  Prue  rose  to  her  feet  with 
distended  eyes  and  bristling  hair,  and  faced  Robin 
Freemantle. 

He  wore  a  long  riding-coat  of  wine-colored  cloth 
and  carried  a  broad  beaver  caught  up  on  one  side 
with  a  plain  silver  buckle.  A  small  quantity  of  fine 
linen  ruffle  protruded  from  his  vest  and  the  sleeves 
of  his  coat,  and  his  left  hand  rested  in  a  broad 
black  ribbon  sling.  With  his  neat  leather  gaiters 
and  spurred  heels,  and  the  plain  sword  in  its  black 
scabbard  peeping  from  beneath  the  full  skirt  of  his 
coat,  he  looked  the  traveling  country-gentleman  to 
the  life. 

For  a  minute  or  more  the  husband  and  wife  stood 
gazing  upon  each  other  in  silence.  Gradually  the 
look  of  terror  faded  from  Prue's  face  and  was 
replaced  by  an  expression  in  which  fear  and  anger 
contended  with  relief. 


It  is  really  you?— Alive  and  free?"      Page  114. 


THE  MORROW'S  WAKENING       115 

"  It  is  really  you  ?  "  she  gasped  — "  alive  —  and 
free  ?  "  Then  the  recollection  of  her  futile  tears 
and  her  hours  of  anguish  rushed  over  her  and  she 
stamped  her  little  foot  in  unmistakable  irritation. 

"  You  are  angry  with  me  —  because  I  am  alive?  " 
he  said,  recoiling  as  though  she  had  struck  him. 

"  I  have  no  right  to  be  angry,"  she  said  coldly. 
"  On  the  contrary,  I  congratulate  you." 

"  You  congratulate  me! "  he  repeated  slowly. 
"But  how  about  yourself?  I  am  afraid  my  — 
resurrection  —  has  put  you  in  an  awkward  position." 

She  made  no  reply. 

"  Am  I  to  blame  for  that  — ?  "  he  began,  but  she 
turned  upon  him  swiftly. 

"  You  mean  that  it  is  my  own  fault  that  you  are 
my  husband  ?  "  she  interrupted,  her  blue  eyes  flash- 
ing like  steel.  "If  you  choose  to  blame  me  for 
that,  I  have  not  a  word  to  say  in  my  own  defense." 

"  If  I  dared,  I  would  bless  you  for  it,"  he  said, 
in  a  low  voice,  "  although  you,  perhaps,  were  wait- 
ing impatiently  for  news  of  my  death,  when  I  in- 
terrupted you?  " 

Remembering  how  she  had  been  employed, 
Prue  had  no  answer  ready.  She  was  silent  a 
minute,  and  then  abruptly  blurted  out,  "  How  did 
you  escape,  and  why  did  you  come  here?  Good 
Heaven,  if  they  should  follow  you  and  find  you 
here!  Oh,  how  could  you  betray  me?  Sure,  I  am 
the  most  unfortunate  woman  in  the  world — !  " 

"  Listen  to  me ;  there  is  nothing  for  you  to  be 
alarmed  about,"  he  cried,  hurriedly  coming  to  her 
and  seizing  her  hand.  "  I  am  free  —  reprieved  — 


ii6       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

pardoned.  No  one  will  follow  me  here ;  no  one  — " 
He  stopped  suddenly,  and  looked  fixedly  at  her. 
"  What  has  happened?  "  he  asked,  in  a  tone  of  deep 
concern.  "You  are  so  pale  —  your  eyes  are  red 
and  swollen  —  you  have  been  weeping  ?  " 

"  I  thought  you  were  dead !  "  she  said  half-re- 
sent fully. 

"  And  you  wept  because  you  thought  I  was 
dead?"  he  said  incredulously  —  "You  were  sorry 
for  me?"  He  stood  gazing  at  her,  lost  in  an 
amazement  so  profound  that  it  seemed  like  a  re- 
proach. 

She  drew  away  her  hand. 

"  I  should  be  sorry  for  any  poor  soul  condemned 
to  die,"  she  said,  with  an  effort  at  indifference. 

"  When  last  I  saw  her,"  he  said  doubtfully,  as 
if  reasoning  out  a  strange  problem  against  which 
his  reason  contended,  "  she  was  fresh  and  smiling, 
and  prinked  out  like  a  princess  for  her  marriage 
with  a  highwayman.  To-day  she  is  pale  and  sad," 
his  eye  ran  over  her  somber  figure,  "  and  all  in 
black  —  for  my  sake  — " 

"  You  run  on  too  fast ! "  Prue  interrupted  pet- 
ulantly. "  Can  I  not  wear  a  black  dress  without 
putting  on  mourning  for  your  sake?  Methinks 
I'll  have  to  wear  it  for  my  own!  Never,  surely, 
was  a  woman  so  caught  in  her  own  trap!  "  She 
cast  her  eyes  round,  as  though  for  visible  means  of 
escape.  Suddenly  a  thought  of  horror  glanced  into 
her  mind. 

"  Did  you  come  here  to  claim  me  ?  "  she  gasped, 
sinking  into  a  chair,  pallid  with  fear. 


THE  MORROW'S  WAKENING        117 

"  You  need  not  fear  me,  I  have  no  such  design 
upon  you,"  he  said,  regarding  her  with  pitying  ten- 
derness. He  was  sorely  wounded,  though  more  for 
her  sake  than  his  own.  "  Can  you  not  understand 
that  I  would  rather  perish  by  the  most  cruel  tortures 
than  give  you  one  moment's  pain?  Oh!  rather 
than  see  that  look  of  fear  and  hatred  upon  your 
face,  I  would  I  were  now  hanging  upon  the  gal- 
lows! At  least,  you  would  pity  me  there,  and  if 
not,  I  should  be  none  the  worse  off  for  your  scorn. 
I  am  free,  it  is  true,  but  an  exile,  and  unless  I  leave 
these  shores  within  eight  days,  an  outlaw.  In  a 
week,  then,  should  I  be  still  alive,  I  shall  be  dead 
in  law  and  you  will  be  free  from  me  for  ever." 

She  listened  attentively  while  he  was  speaking, 
and  her  face  lost  its  tense  look  of  terror.  Once 
or  twice  she  glanced  furtively  at  him,  noting  the 
power  and  grace  of  his  tall  form,  his  easy,  self- 
confident  bearing  and  the  manly  frankness  of  his 
strong,  swarthy  face  —  more  attractive  than  mere 
beauty  to  a  woman  so  essentially  feminine  as  Pru- 
dence. She  was  not  afraid  of  him  now,  but  she  was 
extremely  angry  with  fate,  and  at  the  moment  he 
represented  fate  in  its  most  inexorable  form,  so 
she  wanted  to  be  very  angry  with  him.  Yet  she 
could  not  reproach  him,  for  the  harder  she  struck 
at  him,  the  more  she  would  wound  her  own  pride. 

"  It  is  all  so  terrible,"  she  said,  sighing  wearily. 
Then  the  door  was  flung  open,  and  Peggie  darted 
in  with  the  News  sheet  in  her  hand. 

"  Prue,  Prue,"  she  cried,  flinging  her  arms  round 
her  cousin  without  observing  that  she  was  not  alone. 


ii8       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  He  is  not  dead  —  he  has  been  pardoned  and  is  out 
of  prison.  Oh!  my  poor,  dear  Prue,  to  think  you 
were  all  night  breaking  your  heart  for  nothing — " 

"  Hush,  hush,  Peggie !  "  Prue  was  scarlet  to  the 
roots  of  her  hair,  and  with  both  her  hands  over 
Peggie's  mouth,  tried  to  stifle  her  voice. 

"  Mercy !  "  shrieked  Peggie,  suddenly  discover- 
ing Robin.  "  How  did  you  get  here  ?  What  did 
you  come  for?  " 

"  For  no  evil  purpose,  my  good  Mistress  Peggie," 
he  replied  good-humoredly.  "  I  came  as  any  other 
visitor  and  requested  a  few  words  in  private  with 
Lady  Prudence  Brooke.  By  good  fortune,  I  found 
her  here  alone,  and  will  now  proceed  to  disclose 
the  object  of  my  visit,  which  is  simply  to  ask  her 
to  take  charge  of  this  small  packet  for  me,  until 
I  send  a  messenger  for  it." 

The  packet  was  a  compact  one,  about  the  size 
of  an  ordinary  letter,  and  scarcely  thicker,  care- 
fully stitched  in  a  piece  of  white  silk,  and  secured 
by  a  seal  without  any  device. 

Robin  held  it  out  to  Prue,  but  she  made  no 
movement  to  take  it. 

"Oh!  don't  be  afraid  that  I  would  ask  you  to 
do  anything  dangerous,"  he  went  on  earnestly. 
"  If  it  concerned  myself,  I  would  not  dare  to  trouble 
you,  but  this  is  a  sacred  trust,  which  I  hold  far 
above  my  life,  and  if  I  were  rearrested,  which  is 
quite  possible,  I  might  not  be  able  to  rid  myself  of 
it  in  time  to  prevent  a  great  disaster.  It  was  for 
this  reason  that  I  took  the  unwarrantable  liberty  of 
calling  upon  the  Viscountess  Brooke.  This  packet 


THE  MORROW'S  WAKENING       119 

concerns  the  life  and  fortune  of  many  friends  of 
hers,  but  no  one  would  think  of  looking  for  it  in 
the  keeping  of  the  Duchess  of  Marlborough's 
favorite." 

"  Friends  of  mine?  "  she  exclaimed  incredulously. 
"  Then  who  are  you  ?  " 

"  A  poor  soldier  of  fortune,"  he  replied,  bowing 
low  as  though  introducing  himself,  "  who  has  for 
a  moment  crossed  your  path,  and  in  a  few  days  will 
return  to  his  natural  obscurity  and  trouble  you  no 
more.  All  he  asks  is  forgiveness  for  having  so 
signally  failed  in  keeping  his  part  of  the  marriage 
contract." 

"  It  is  not  that,"  she  interrupted,  thoroughly 
abashed,  though  not  less  angry  than  before.  "  / 
should,  perhaps,  be  the  one  to  ask  pardon  for  forc- 
ing a  marriage  upon  you  which  must  be  very  irk- 
some now;  for,  sure,  you  must  be  even  more 
embarrassed  to  find  yourself  saddled  with  a  wife 
than  I  with  a  husband.  Yet,  believe  me,  I  am  not  so 
bad  as  I  seem.  Peggie  knows  I  did  not  wish  you 
harm,  but  oh!  I  wish  I  had  never  seen  you.  Why 
did  you  attack  us  on  Bleakmoor,  and  why,  oh !  why 
did  you  let  yourself  be  caught  and  put  in  prison  — 
by  Sir  Geoffrey,  of  all  men !  Even  the  devil  could 
not  have  put  such  an  idea  in  my  head,  about  a  high- 
wayman I  had  never  seen  or  heard  of  — " 

Poor  Robin  turned  so  pale  while  Prue  poured 
out  these  lamentations,  that  Peggie  took  compassion 
on  him.  "  Out  upon  you,  Cousin,  for  a  railing 
shrew!  If  you  must  needs  blame  somebody,  let 
it  be  me,  for  if  I  had  not  persuaded  you  to  run 


120       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

away  from  Yorkshire,  Captain  Freemantle  would 
not  have  kissed  —  I  mean  waylaid  you  —  and  if  I 
had  refused  to  carry  your  message  to  Newgate,  he 
would  have  been  spared  a  scolding  wife,  and  God 
he  knows,  his  state  would  have  been  the  more  gra- 
cious —  if  I  had  not  meddled  in  things  I  had  better 
have  left  alone." 

"  Well,  Peggie,  I  forgive  you ;  and  you  too,  Sir 
Highwayman.  The  only  person  I  can  not  pardon 
is  Prudence  Brooke,  who  never  looks  the  length  of 
her  nose  before  she  jumps  over  a  precipice,"  said 
Prue.  "  Give  me  your  packet,"  she  held  out  her 
hand,  without  raising  her  eyes,  "  and  tell  me  how 
I  can  serve  you;  but  do  not  trust  me  too  far;  you 
can  see  for  yourself  what  an  empty-headed  little 
fool  I  am."  ' 

"If  you  knew  how  you  hurt  me  by  blaming  your- 
self, you  would  refrain,"  said  Robin,  in  a  low  voice. 
"  Believe  me,  death  would  be  welcome,  if  it  would 
make  you  as  kind  to  me  again  as  you  were  when 
I  was  condemned  to  die.  But  a  higher  law  than 
man's  law  forbids  us  to  take  our  own  life  or  even 
throw  it  away  recklessly;  yet  do  not  despair,  the 
outlaw  walks  blindfold  through  a  world f til  of  ex- 
ecutioners." 

"  You  wrong  me  in  speaking  as  though  —  as 
though  I  were  one  of  them,"  she  replied,  with  a 
touch  of  disdain.  "  What  do  you  wish  me  to  do 
with  your  packet?  " 

"  To  keep  it  safely  until  my  messenger  calls  for 
it,  and  to  be  alone  when  you  give  it  to  him.  He 
will  carry  no  credentials,"  Robin  added,  "  and  will 


THE  MORROW'S  WAKENING        121 

merely  inquire  if  you  have  anything  for  The  Cap- 
tain. You  can  surrender  your  charge  to  him  with- 
out fear.  Accept  my  profoundest  thanks  for  this 
favor,  and  my  humblest  apologies  for  having  in- 
truded so  long.  Farewell,  ladies." 

Once  more   he   bowed   ceremoniously   and   was 
gone. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  PRICE  OF  A  BIRTHRIGHT 

ROBIN  set  out  at  a  rapid  pace  in  the  direction 
of  the  city,  but  as  he  was  passing  through  a 
crowded  street,  a  crippled  beggar  with  a  patch  over 
one  eye  stopped  him,  and  with  a  piteous  whine, 
implored  his  charity. 

Tossing  him  a  coin,  Robin  went  on  his  way,  but 
the  beggar,  quite  agile  for  so  dilapidated  a  creature, 
kept  close  behind  him,  pouring  out  a  stream  of  pe- 
titions and  lamentations. 

"  What's  sixpence  to  a  noble  lord  like  your 
honor?  Make  it  a  shilling,  brave  Captain,  to  help 
me  out  of  the  country.  There's  a  warrant  out  for 
me,  and  divil  take  me  if  I  know  what's  the  charge, 
but  its  something  political  —  hanging  and  quarter- 
ing at  the  very  least.  Thank  your  honor  kindly, 
and  may  your  enemies  always  get  the  worst  of  it. 
Ah !  but  Lunnon's  a  bad  town,  and  Linc'n's  Inn's  the 
very  place  to  ambush  a  man  and  take  him  after  the 
lawyers  have  got  everything  out  of  him.  Divil 
take  me  if  ever  I'd  give  a  thing  to  a  lawyer  that 
I  might  want  myself;  they'd  take  your  life  for  six- 
and-eightpence,  and  make  a  bargain  with  Ould 
Scratch  for  your  soul  — " 

"  That  will  do,  my  good  fellow,"  said  Robin, 
flashing  a  quick  glance  at  him.  "  You  need  not 

122 


THE  PRICE  OF  A  BIRTHRIGHT     123 

follow  me  any  farther,  you  are  only  wasting  what  is 
doubtless  valuable  time." 

The  beggar  mumbled  an  excuse,  and  turned  to 
beg  from  the  nearest  passer-by.  And  Robin  pur- 
sued his  way  in  a  very  thoughtful  mood. 

"  Another  warrant  out,"  he  murmured.  "  I 
ought  to  have  thought  of  that  when  they  appointed 
this  morning  to  finish  the  business  instead  of  set- 
tling it  all  yesterday.  Steve  was  right  These 
hounds  never  meant  to  give  me  a  chance." 

By  this  time  he  was  in  the  Strand,  and  turning- 
up  a  paved  court  behind  St.  Martin's  Church, 
knocked  at  a  door,  on  which  the  name  of  Matthew 
Double,  Attorney-at-Law,  appeared  on  a  brass 
plate. 

The  door  was  quickly  opened  and  two  men  came 
out,  who  had  been  waiting  for  him.  One  of  these, 
though  scarcely  older  than  Robin,  had  the  strained 
look  of  hard  work  and  high  living  that  distin- 
guished the  professional  man  of  that  day.  This 
was  Mr.  Matthew  Double,  and  the  other,  in  shabby 
black,  carrying  a  mighty  blue-bag,  could  never  have 
been  intended  by  nature  for  anything  but  a  lawyer's 
clerk. 

"  Aha !  here's  our  man,  punctual  to  the  minute," 
cried  Double.  "  Few  men  would  be  so  prompt  to 
throw  away  a  great  inheritance,  Captain." 

"  My  word  is  passed,"  said  Robin.  "  Did  you 
doubt  that  I  would  keep  it  ?  " 

"Not  I;  have  I  not  just  given  you  abundant 
proof  of  confidence?  Still,  I  hate  to  see  the 
chances  of  such  a  splendid  law-suit  thrown  away; 


124       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

literally  flung  to  the  dogs.  Dogs,  too,  who,  if  I 
am  not  mistaken,  will  turn  and  rend  you  when  they 
have  drawn  your  teeth  and  cut  your  claws." 

"When  they  have,"  replied  Robin.  "By  the 
way,  can  you  lend  me  a  cloak;  a  long  and  ample 
one?" 

"  This  is  somewhat  the  worse  for  wear,"  said 
Double,  indicating  one  that  hung  in  the  hall,  "  but 
if  you  want  it  for  a  disguise  it  is  rather  conspicu- 
ous." 

"  All  the  better  for  both  reasons,"  replied  Robin, 
throwing  over  his  shoulders  a  military-looking 
cloak  of  dark  green  cloth,  a  good  deal  frayed,  and 
lined  with  stained  and  faded  red.  With  it,  he  as- 
sumed a  swaggering  step,  and  with  his  beaver 
cocked  at  a  defiant  angle,  made  a  striking  contrast 
to  the  smugly  clad  lawyer  and  his  weazened  satel- 
lite. 

"  I'm  ready  now,"  he  cried,  and  the  trio  started, 
keeping  to  the  least  frequented  side  of  a  street  par- 
allel with  the  Strand. 

"  My  good  Captain,"  Mr.  Double  remonstrated, 
after  going  a  very  short  distance,  "  moderate  your 
stride,  I  pray,  to  that  of  a  man  a  foot  shorter  than 
yourself;  or,  better  still,  let  me  call  a  coach." 

"  I'd  rather  walk,  if  it  is  all  the  same  to  you," 
Robin  replied.  "  A  man  who  has  taken  all  his  ex- 
ercise for  two  or  three  weeks  in  the  courtyard  of 
Newgate,  feels  the  need  of  stretching  his  legs  when 
he  gets  outside." 

"  True,  but  /  haven't  been  in  Newgate  for  three 
weeks,  and  am,  besides,  of  too  portly  a  figure  to 


THE  PRICE  OF  A  BIRTHRIGHT     125 

enjoy  violent  exercise.  Samuel,  stop  the  first 
empty  coach  we  meet.  Truly,  Captain,  thou'rt  a 
queer  fellow ;  there  are  not  many  of  your  profession 
I'd  venture  to  let  out  of  my  sight  for  twelve  hours 
when  I  was  under  bonds  to  surrender  him  at  a 
certain  time,  and  he  had  so  many  good  reasons  for 
leaving  me  in  the  lurch." 

Robin  laughed.  "  Why,  it  would  ill  suit  me  to 
leave  London  with  my  affairs  but  half-settled,"  he 
said ;  "  after  to-day  your  responsibility  will  be  at 
an  end,  and  whether  I  decide  to  stay  here  and  chal- 
lenge the  hangman,  or  accept  my  fate  and  leave  the 
country,  depends  on  matters  you  wot  not  of,  and 
will  concern  no  one  but  myself." 

"  'Tis  a  thousand  pities,"  observed  Double  re- 
gretfully, "  that  you  did  not  unravel  the  mystery 
of  your  birth  until  there  was  a  price  upon  your 
head.  There's  enough  in  your  claim  to  have  made 
a  pretty  case.  A  ve-ry  pret-ty  case.  Even  now  — " 

"  Even  now,"  interrupted  Robin,  "  I  have  bought 
my  life  at  the  price  of  my  birthright,  and  I'll  pay 
the  price  if  I  get  what  I  bargained  for.  But  not 
unless.  Oh!  I'm  no  sheep  to  give  my  wool  first, 
and  then  go  quietly  to  the  shambles." 

"  They  will  scarcely  attempt  to  do  anything  while 
you  are  in  England  —  but  if  you  are  going  to  — 
say  America  —  I  would  advise  you  to  give  your 
address  in  —  let  us  say  Paris." 

A  peculiar  smile  curved  Robin's  mouth,  but  not 
mirthfully. 

"Truly,  I  had  thought  of  the  colonies,"  he  said 
reflectively.  "  Perchance,  the  government  will  give 


126       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

me  a  grant  of  land  in  some  swamp  or  wilderness, 
where  I  can  work  off  my  superfluous  energies  fight- 
ing the  Indians  or  the  Spaniards." 

"  There  is  a  coach,  Master  Double,"  interposed 
the  meek  voice  of  the  clerk ;  "  would  you  wish  me 
to  hire  it?" 

"  What,  within  a  stone's  throw  of  Lincoln's  Inn? 
Your  conversation  has  beguiled  me,  Captain,  but 
it  has  also  made  me  thirsty.  We  have  a  few  min- 
utes to  spare,  and  I  would  gladly  crack  a  bottle  to 
the  successful  ending  of  our  business." 

They  turned  into  a  quiet  coffee-house,  and  Robin 
ordered  a  bottle  of  Burgundy.  While  it  was  be- 
ing fetched  from  the  cellar,  he  obtained  a  sheet  of 
paper  from  Samuel's  blue-bag  and  wrote  a  brief 
letter,  in  which  he  inclosed  two  small  documents, 
sealed  the  packet  with  great  care,  and  carefully  ad- 
dressed it 

"  To  Mistress  Larkyn, 

"  In  care  of  Mine  Hostess  of 
"  The  Fox  and  Grapes." 

Mine  Hostess,  a  plump  but  not  uncomely  dame, 
with  a  merry  eye,  sat  in  her  cosy  bar,  surrounded 
by  quaint  flagons  and  other  emblems  of  her  hos- 
pitable calling.  She  returned  a  cheerful  answer  to 
Robin's  greeting,  and  inquired  his  pleasure. 

"  You  have  a  kindly  face,  and  I'll  be  sworn  a 
heart  to  match,  fair  Goddess  of  the  Grape,"  said 
Robin.  "  Will  you  help  two  hapless  lovers,  sepa- 
rated by  cruel  fate  ?  " 


THE  PRICE  OF  "A  BIRTHRIGHT     127 

"  That  depends  on  what  I  am  to  help  them  to,"  she 
retorted.  "  Mine's  a  respectable  house,  and  I'd 
rather  have  dealings  with  lawyers  than  lovers." 

"  I  want  but  a  trifling  service  from  you,  though 
'tis  a  vast  favor  to  me,"  said  Robin.  "  Will  you 
take  charge  of  this  letter,  and  by  and  by  give  it  to 
the  serving-man  of  Mistress  Larkyn,  whose  name 
is  writ  upon  it?  " 

"Oh!  if  that's  all,"  she  said,  extending  a  hand 
that  was  plump  and  shapely,  if  not  over-clean. 
Robin  seized  the  hand  and  touched  it  gallantly  with 
his  lips,  before  surrendering  the  letter  to  its  clasp. 
After  that,  although  she  called  him  an  "  impudent 
varlet,"  and  made  as  though  to  box  his  ears,  he 
might  have  asked  a  much  greater  favor  without 
danger  of  rebuff. 

When  they  went  out  again,  Robin  cast  the  green 
cloak  about  him,  and  strode  along  with  an  air  that 
made  more  than  one  peaceable  citizen  give  him  the 
footway  all  to  himself.  As  they  entered  Lincoln's 
Inn  Square,  this  became  still  more  marked,  and  in 
front  of  one  of  the  finest  houses,  he  stopped  and 
looked  round  with  an  insolent  swagger  that  greatly 
impressed  a  group  of  men  loitering  under  a  tree 
near  by. 

Double  could  not  quite  conceal  his  dissatisfaction, 
and  putting  his  client  by  the  sleeve,  whispered  that 
the  men  looked  like  constables  in  plain  clothes,  and 
that  they  could  hardly  fail  to  recognize  him  when 
he  came  out,  if,  as  seemed  probable,  they  were  wait- 
ing there  for  him. 

"  Let  them  stare  their  fill,"  said  Robin.     "  I  wish 


128       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

them  to  become  thoroughly  acquainted  with  Robin 
Freemantle's  appearance."  And  he  walked  slowly 
up  the  steps  into  the  house. 

In  an  up-stairs  room,  Lord  Beachcombe  and  his 
lawyer  awaited  them.  Robin  left  his  swashbuck- 
ling manners  in  the  anteroom,  where  Samuel  was 
relieved  of  his  bag  and  left  to  the  congenial  society 
of  two  or  three  clerks. 

Lord  Beachcombe  returned  Robin's  courteous 
greeting  with  a  haughty  movement  that  was  scarcely 
a  salute,  the  two  lawyers  met  with  friendly  for- 
mality, tape-tied  papers  were  produced,  and  the  con- 
ference began. 

"  I  understood,"  said  the  earl,  addressing  his  at- 
torney, "  that  the  person  who  calls  himself  Robert 
Gregory  de  Cliffe  would  be  present  to-day." 

"  Have  patience,  my  Lord,  he  will  be  here  in 
good  time,"  interposed  Mr.  Double.  "  Have  you 
examined  the  attested  copies,  Mr.  Perry  ?  " 

"  I  have,  and  to  avoid  waste  of  time,  I  am  pre- 
pared to  admit  that  they  appear  to  contain  inter- 
esting family  matters,  highly  interesting.  Not 
that  they  would  be  of  much  legal  value  if  you 
brought  the  case  before  the  courts,  but  enough  to 
cause  some  annoyance  to  my  client.  We  have  shown 
that  we  consider  it  worth  examining  into  the  affair, 
by  obtaining  the  pardon  of  this" — -he  glanced  at 
Robin  — "  this  gentleman." 

"  And  also  by  taking  the  precaution  of  having  a 
warrant  ready  for  my  arrest  on  another  charge," 
said  Robin,  quietly  but  incisively. 

Mr.  Perry  glanced  at  Lord  Beachcombe,  and  their 


THE  PRICE  OF  A  BIRTHRIGHT     129 

eyes  met  with  the  same  inquiry,  "  How  can  he 
know?" 

"  Had  you  kept  faith  with  me,"  said  Robin,  bend- 
ing his  stern  gaze  upon  Beachcombe,  "  this  matter 
could  have  been  settled  in  a  few  minutes.  As  it  is, 
I  have  decided  not  to  put  the  two  most  important 
documents  in  your  hands  until  I  am  in  a  place  of 
safety." 

"  Traitor !  "  exclaimed  Beachcombe,  striking  the 
table  with  his  clenched  fist.  "  I  knew  he  would 
devise  some  means  to  balk  me !  " 

"If  you  talk  of  traitors,  did  you  not  purpose 
to  get  everything  you  wanted  from  me,  and  then 
put  my  head  back  in  the  noose?  "  demanded  Robin. 
"  Such  a  cat-and-mouse  game  is  not  so  easy  to 
play  with  a  man  who  has  carried  his  life  in  his 
hand  through  every  kind  of  danger  —  even  to  the 
gallows'-foot  —  even  through  treachery,  though 
that  is  less  common  among  gentlemen  of  the  road 
than  some  other  kinds  of  gentlemen.  In  exchange 
for  my  life,  I  will  give  you,  as  I  promised,  the  orig- 
inal letters  that  passed  between  your  father  and 
his  first  wife,  the  original  documents  proving  the 
identity  of  both  parties,  and  the  copies  of  the  mar- 
riage certificate  and  the  death  certificate  that  prove 
your  mother's  marriage  a  fraud." 

"  Oh !  this  villain  will  drive  me  mad !  "  screamed 
Lord  Beachcombe.  "  Let  me  go,  Perry ;  must  I  kill 
you  to  get  at  him  ?  " 

"  Be  calm,  my  Lord,  I  beg  you,"  urged  the  law- 
yer, very  red  in  the  face  from  his  efforts  to  restrain 
his  client;  "this  matter  can  be  arranged  without 


130       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

violence,  if  you  will  leave  it  to  me.  Mr. —  a  — 
Captain  —  a  —  Freebooter,  pray  address  any  re- 
marks to  me.  You  will  only  impede  the  negotia- 
tion by  provoking  Lord  Beachcombe." 

"  Here  are  the  original  letters  and  documents," 
said  Mr.  Double,  advancing  to  the  table,  "  we  will 
go  over  them  together."  The  lawyers  went  to  work 
together,  comparing,  arguing  and  quibbling,  as 
though  the  whole  matter  had  not  been  settled  in 
advance. 

Robin,  meantime,  strolled  to  the  window,  where 
he  observed  one  of  the  loitering  men  in  conversa- 
tion with  a  furtive  man  in  black,  with  a  pen  stuck 
in  his  rusty  wig.  He  stealthily  pointed  Robin  out 
when  he  appeared  at  the  window,  and  then  darted 
back  to  the  house  like  a  rat  into  its  hole. 

"  These  letters  appear  genuine,"  said  Mr.  Perry 
finally,  "  but  they  are  valueless  to  us  without  the 
two  certificates." 

"  They  are  worth  as  much  to  you  as  your  pledge 
of  safety  is  to  me,"  returned  Robin.  "  Why  should 
you  expect  to  feel  safe  from  me,  while  I  am  still 
in  danger  from  you?  That  was  not  the  compact. 
The  hour  that  I  set  my  foot  on  a  foreign  shore  in 
safety,  I  will  cut  the  last  thread  that  binds  me  to 
the  past,  but  those  two  papers  will  never  be  yours, 
Lord  Beachcombe,  until  it  is  out  of  your  power 
to  injure  me.  I  have  given  my  word,  and  I  will 
keep  it.  My  title  in  exchange  for  my  life;  your 
legitimacy  in  exchange  for  my  safety." 

"  I  knew  it  —  I  felt  it !  "  cried  Beachcombe. 
"  This  fellow  himself  is  the  arch-impostor." 


THE  PRICE  OF  A  BIRTHRIGHT     131 

"  Impostor ! "  said  Robin,  with  a  contemptuous 
laugh,  as  he  stood  up  and  pointed  to  the  earl. 
"  Nature  has  cast  us  in  the  same  mold ;  God  be 
praised  that  her  work  is  only  skin-deep.  Double, 
you  have  the  late  earl's  picture  in  that  bag;  pull  it 
out,  and  let  us  see  on  which  of  his  sons  he 
printed  off  the  best  likeness  of  himself." 

Mr.  Double  drew  forth  a  roll  of  canvas,  that 
bore  evidence  of  having  been  hastily  cut  from  the 
frame. 

"  My  father's  picture !  "  cried  Beachcombe,  recog- 
nizing it  with  amazement.  "  How  came  it  in  your 
possession?  " 

"  It  fell  into  my  hands,"  said  Robin  dryly,  "  when 
I  was  lately  in  the  North  Country.  I  thought  it 
might  be  useful,  so  I  brought  it  away  with  me." 

"  You  mean,  I  suppose,  that  you  stole  it  from 
Beachcombe  Castle,"  snapped  the  earl. 

"  How  could  I  steal  my  own  ?  Beachcombe  Cas- 
tle is  entailed  upon  the  eldest  son,  and  I  inherited 
it  from  my  father,  as  the  son  just  born  to  you  will 
doubtless  inherit  it  from  you  if  nothing  untoward 
happens  to  me.  You  ought  to  pray  heartily  for  my 
welfare,  my  Lord,  until  I  am  safely  landed  in  — 
America.  Still,  I  am  not  dependent  upon  the  pic- 
ture of  a  dead  man  for  proofs  of  identity.  I  can 
bring  twenty  living  witnesses  to  prove  that  I  am 
the  son  of  Mrs.  Vincent,  whose  marriage  to  Cap- 
tain Gregory  de  Cliffe  I  can  prove  by  documents 
and  other  valuable  evidence." 

"  You  will  give  up  the  two  certificates  if  Lord 
Beachcombe  pledges  his  word  that  you  will  be  al- 


132       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

lowed  to  leave  England  unmolested,  will  you  not  ?  " 
inquired  Mr.  Perry  insinuatingly. 

"  I  will  not,"  replied  Robin  firmly. 

"  Well,  then  —  I  urge  this  matter  because  my 
lord  will  have  a  long  period  of  suspense  to  endure 
before  he  receives  those  documents,  and  without  im- 
pugning your  good  faith,  it  is  possible  they  might 
fall  into  the  wrong  hands  after  all  —  will  you  give 
them  up  if  Lord  Beachcombe  gives  you  a  written 
guarantee  that  you  will  be  safe,  so  far  as  he  can 
protect  you?" 

"  I  do  not  value  his  written  guarantee  one 
farthing,"  said  Robin  contemptuously.  "  Given  an 
hour's  start,  I  am  ready  to  take  my  chance  of  es- 
cape from  any  lawyer  or  traitor  of  you  all.  But 
I've  a  reason  for  wishing  to  remain  in  London  for 
the  next  few  days,  and  I'll  not  give  up  the  one 
thing  that  enables  me  to  do  it  in  safety." 

Beachcombe  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  I  have  stood 
this  insolence  long  enough !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You 
—  an  outlaw,  a  convicted  robber,  dare  to  spurn  my 
word!  —  refuse  to  accept  my  written  promise! 
Pray,  what  will  satisfy  you?  " 

"Oh!  if  you  wish  to  offer  me  satisfaction,  'tis 
quickly  settled,"  cried  Robin.  "  To  cross  swords 
with  your  lordship  will  give  me  the  utmost  pleasure, 
and  let  him  who  draws  the  first  blood  dictate  the 
terms  of  truce." 

Beachcombe  sneered,  but  he  was  not  a  coward, 
and  his  fingers  almost  involuntarily  wandered  to  his 
sword-hilt. 

"  Gentlemen,     gentlemen ! "     cried    the    lawyer. 


THE  PRICE  OF  A  BIRTHRIGHT     133 

"  This  is  no  time  or  place  for  fighting ;  besides,  if 
there  is  anything  in  your  story,  Captain  —  Free- 
booter—  the  curse  of  Cain  would  be  on  the  one 
who  shed  the  other's  blood." 

"  Will  the  one  who  hires  somebody  else  to  shed 
the  other's  blood,  escape  the  curse  of  Cain?"  sternly 
inquired  Robin.  "  If  we  can  not  settle  this  business 
like  gentlemen,  let  us  get  it  over  as  quickly  as  possi- 
ble. It  will  not  be  difficult,  I  dare  say,  to  find  some 
better  occasion  for  a  meeting." 

In  a  great  hurry,  Mr.  Perry  read  over  a  legal 
document,  renouncing  on  the  part  of  "  the  person 
claiming  to  be  Robert  Gregory  de  Cliffe  and  his 
descendants  for  ever,"  all  titles,  estates  entailed  or 
otherwise,  and  other  belongings  appertaining  to  the 
Beachcombe  family  in  all  its  ramifications,  in  con- 
sideration of  one  thousand  pounds  over  and  above 
all  expenses  of  his  transportation  to  a  foreign  land, 
or  any  place  outside  of  the  British  Isles,  that  he 
might  select  for  his  future  abode.  The  above  to  be 
paid  to  him  on  signing  this  deed,  and  to  constitute  a 
full  satisfaction  for  every  claim,  past,  present  and 
future. 

Robin  listened  with  scant  patience  to  the  monoto- 
nous repetition  of  legal  terms  by  which  every  con- 
tingency was  forestalled  and  provided  for.  Then 
he  requested  Mr.  Double  to  peruse  it,  in  case  there 
might  be  snares  or  hidden  meanings  in  it.  Two 
clerks  were  called  in  to  witness  the  bold  signature 
of  Robert  Gregory  de  Cliffe,  and  finally,  Mr.  Perry 
counted  out  one  thousand  pounds  in  Bank  of  Eng- 
land notes,  as  compensation  for  Robin's  claim  to 


134       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

an  inheritance  worth  twenty  thousand  a  year,  two 
hundred  more  for  his  expenses  in  leaving  the  coun- 
try, and  certain  sums  to  Mr.  Double  for  his  services. 
Lord  Beachcombe  showed  very  little  interest  in  this 
part  of  the  transaction,  but  sat  biting  his  nails  and 
fingering  his  sword-hilt. 

Mr.  Perry  drew  Mr.  Double  aside,  and  made  one 
last  attempt  to  convince  him  that  it  would  be  greatly 
to  the  interest  of  all  parties  if  he  could  persuade 
his  client  to  surrender  the  two  documents  of  whose 
value  he  held  so  exaggerated  an  estimate.  Mean- 
time, Robin  strolled  up  to  the  window,  arranging 
his  beaver  with  great  nonchalance,  and  throwing 
the  end  of  the  cloak  over  his  shoulder,  so  as  to  dis- 
play the  red  lining. 

He  observed  that  the  loitering  men  had  drawn 
together,  and  numbered  about  half-a-score,  armed 
with  stout  bludgeons  and  still  more  deadly  weapons. 
Near  them,  under  the  trees,  a  ragged  urchin  walked 
Lord  Beachcombe's  horse  slowly  up  and  down, 
hopeful  of  a  bounteous  douceur  from  the  noble 
patron  who  had  kept  him  so  long  waiting. 

"  Now,  Captain,"  said  Mr.  Double,  "  I  am  at 
your  service." 

Robin  walked  to  the  door,  and  removing  his 
beaver,  swept  so  low  a  bow,  that  he  dropped  it  on 
the  floor. 

"  Farewell,  Mr.  Perry, —  you  will  hear  from  me 
—  from  foreign  parts.  My  Lord  Beachcombe  — 
adieu." 

The  lawyer,  who  had  already  assumed  an  air  of 
preoccupation  with  other  matters,  returned  the  bow 


THE  PRICE  OF  A  BIRTHRIGHT     135 

with  ceremonious  frostiness.  Lord  Beachcombe 
did  not  even  turn  his  head.  Consequently,  neither 
of  them  saw  Robin  kick  his  own  hat  out  of  the 
way  and  help  himself  to  one  that  lay  on  a  chair 
near  the  door. 

"  Give  me  five  minutes  start,"  he  whispered  to 
Double,  as  he  quickly  disengaged  himself  from  the 
green  cloak  and  threw  it  into  a  dark  corner  of  the 
stairway.  When  he  emerged  from  the  front  door, 
a  dignified  gentleman  in  a  plum-colored  riding-coat 
and  black  velvet  cavalier  hat  with  a  long,  drooping 
ostrich  feather,  he  looked  as  little  as  possible  like 
the  roystering  blade  who  had  been  seen  a  few 
minutes  before  at  the  upper  window.  He  signed 
to  the  boy  with  the  horse,  and  mounting  without 
haste,  threw  him  a  shilling  and  beckoned  to  the 
chief  of  the  posse  of  constables. 

"  You  had  better  bring  your  men  on  this  side 
of  the  street,"  he  said  imperiously ;  "  don't  give  the 
fellow  time  to  get  away  or  you  will  never  catch 
him  again.  And,  mind  —  dead  or  alive !  " 

The  man  knuckled  his  hat  obsequiously.  "  Yes, 
m'  Lud,"  he  said,  with  something  the  air  of  one 
bulldog  being  egged  on  to  attack  another.  "  Them's 
my  orders." 

Robin  gave  him  a  curt  word,  and  rode  out 
through  the  gateway  leading  into  Chancery  Lane. 
When  he  was  out  of  sight,  he  gave  rein  to  his  horse, 
and  taking  to  the  network  of  narrow  lanes  that  lay 
between  the  Strand  and  the  river,  made  off  with  the 
utmost  speed  toward  Westminster. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE   SEALED    PACKET 

MR.  DOUBLE  did  not  hurry  after  his  client, 
but  gave  him  a  good  ten  minutes'  start, 
while  he  made  Samuel  search  the  blue-bag  for  some 
imaginary  papers,  and  then,  bidding  him  shoulder 
his  hated  burden,  went  forth,  much  reassured  by 
the  absence  of  commotion  in  the  Square. 

The  posse  had  collected  outside  the  house,  and 
eyed  the  lawyer  and  his  clerk  suspiciously.  There 
was  a  moment  of  expectation  as  they  recognized 
the  companions  of  their  quarry,  but  Double  and  his 
satellite  were  not  molested,  and  at  a  short  distance 
they  separated,  and  Samuel  pursued  his  westward 
way  alone.  He  did  not  go  far,  but  leaving  his  bag 
in  charge  of  a  friendly  law-stationer,  scurried  back 
to  Lincoln's  Inn,  and  slipping  through  the  consta- 
bles, ran  up-stairs  and  knocked  timidly  at  the  door 
of  Mr.  Perry's  private  sanctum. 

"  What  do  you  want  here,  fellow  ?  "  demanded 
Perry,  opening  the  door  and  discovering  the  little, 
cringing,  shabby  figure  shrinking  into  the  shadow. 
"  This  is  not  the  clerk's  office." 

"  Could  I  —  can  I  —  speak  a  word  with  the  — 
the  lord  ?  "  stammered  Samuel. 

Mr.  Perry  looked  very  searchingly  at  him  for  a 
minute  or  so.  Then  he  relaxed  a  little  and  made 

136 


THE  SEALED  PACKET  137 

room  for  him  to  pass  into  the  room,  which  tie  did, 
smoothing  his  flaxen  wig  over  his  forehead  with  his 
moist  palm,  and  evidently  in  a  desperately  uneasy 
frame  of  mind. 

"  Do  you  want  to  speak  to  Me?  "  demanded  Lord 
Beachcombe,  in  a  haughty  voice,  that  sounded  so 
terrible  to  the  clerk,  that  he  could  hardly  stammer 
out,  "Y  —  yes." 

"And  what  have  you  to  say?"  inquired  Mr. 
Perry,  in  a  more  encouraging  tone.  "  Speak  out, 
man,  don't  be  frightened ;  nobody  will  hurt  you." 

"  Ah !  but  he  would,  if  he  knew,"  quavered 
Samuel,  jerking  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder. 

"  You  mean  Mr.  Double  ?  I  suppose  you  want 
to  tell  us  something  he  is  concealing  from  us,  eh? 
Well,  we  will  protect  you  from  him,"  said  Mr. 
Perry  magnanimously. 

"  'Tis  not  so  much  him  I'm  afraid  of  as  the 
captain,"  whispered  Samuel,  glancing  from  side 
to  side,  as  though  he  expected  to  see  him  lurking 
somewhere  about.  Then  he  approached  Lord 
Beachcombe  on  tiptoe.  "  What  will  you  give  me 
if  I  get  you  those  certificates  ?  " 

"  Damnation !  "  cried  Beachcombe,  starting  up, 
black  with  fury ;  "  are  my  private  affairs  known  to 
every  quill-driver  in  the  town?  " 

Samuel  turned  livid  with  terror.  "  I  only  know 
where  they  are,"  he  whimpered ;  "I  don't  know 
anything  about  them." 

"  Well,  where  are  they  ?  "  demanded  Beachcombe 
threateningly. 

A  glint  of  cunning  sparkled  in  Samuel's  eye. 


138       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  It  wouldn't  be  any  use  for  me  to  tell  your  lord- 
ship where  they  are.  No  one  can  get  at  them  but 
me,  and  as  I  shall  be  suspected,  it's  worth  a  good 
deal  for  the  risk  I  run  —  if  the  certificates  are  any 
use  to  your  lordship." 

"  How  do  you  know  what  certificates  these  are, 
if  you  say  you  don't  know  anything  about  them?  " 
interposed  Mr.  Perry. 

"  Because  I  heard  the  captain  tell  Mr.  Double 
that  he  could  afford  to  let  Lord  Beachcombe  have 
everything  else,  so  long  as  he  kept  the  two  certifi- 
cates back.  So  he  put  them  where  nobody  knows 
but  himself  and  Double  and  me.  And  he'll  have 
them  out  if  I  don't  hurry  and  get  there  first." 

"  You  need  not  be  uneasy  about  that,"  said 
Beachcombe,  with  a  grin  of  malicious  joy.  "  Cap- 
tain Freemantle  is  on  his  way  to  Newgate  Prison 
by  now,  and  if  those  —  papers  —  find  their  way 
into  my  possession,  I  think  it  is  safe  to  say  that  he 
will  never  come  out  except  to  make  the  journey  to 
Tyburn." 

"  On  his  way  to  Newgate  ?  "  cried  the  little  clerk, 
rubbing  his  hands  with  glee.  "  Then,  if  we  can 
agree  on  the  price,  your  lordship  can  have  them  in 
an  hour." 

"  If  you  bring  them  to  me  —  without  reading 
them  —  in  an  hour,  I  will  give  you  ten  guineas," 
said  Lord  Beachcombe  magnificently. 

"  Ten  guineas !  "  echoed  Samuel,  with  a  falling 
countenance.  "  They  can  not  be  so  very  important, 
after  all,  if  that's  all  they're  worth." 

"  How  much  did  you  expect  ?  "  demanded  Beach- 


THE  SEALED  PACKET  139 

combe,  who  hated  parting  with  his  money,  and  was 
still  writhing  under  the  agony  of  having  had  to  dis- 
burse so  considerable  a  sum  already  over  this  affair. 

"  Considering  the  risk,  I  think  I  ought  to  have  a 
hundred  pounds,"  pleaded  Samuel,  trembling  at  his 
own  audacity. 

"  A  hundred  devils!  "  growled  Beachcombe;  "do 
you  think  I  am  made  of  money?  " 

"  It's  well  worth  it,  my  Lord,"  urged  Samuel. 
"  You  don't  know  the  risk  I  run,  even  if  the  cap- 
tain is  in  jail.  And  why  wouldn't  he  get  out? 
He's  been  there  before  and  cheated  the  hangman; 
he's  as  artful  as  a  fox,  and  has  more  friends  than 
you  and  I  know  of." 

Beachcombe  reflected  a  while.  "  Well,  bring  the 
documents  to  my  house  and  you  shall  have  the  hun- 
dred pounds.  But  if  you  ever  betray  the  slightest 
knowledge  of  them,  it  will  be  worse  for  you  than 
if  the  captain,  as  you  call  him,  escaped  from  prison 
and  came  after  you  with  all  his  friends." 

"  They're  in  a  sealed  packet,  my  Lord,  and  if  I 
break  the  seal  you  can  keep  your  money,"  said 
Samuel,  growing  bolder,  as  a  confederacy  in  dis- 
honor brought  the  haughty  peer  nearer  to  his  level. 
Beachcombe  signified  his  acceptance  of  the  com- 
pact and  walked  over  to  the  window,  while  Mr. 
Perry  gave  Samuel  instructions  how  to  make  sure 
of  the  packet  falling  into  no  other  than  the  right 
hands. 

"  Goal's  death !  "  Beachcombe  suddenly  exclaimed, 
in  so  strange  a  voice,  that  the  others  hurried  to 
the  window  and  looked  anxiously  out  to  see  what 


140       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

had  befallen.  The  street  was  perfectly  quiet.  A 
couple  of  barristers,  with  their  gowns  tucked  up, 
stood  talking  and  laughing,  a  street  vendor  shouted 
the  praises  of  his  wares,  a  slatternly  woman,  with  a 
baby  in  her  arms  and  another  clinging  to  her  skirt, 
lounged  under  the  trees  opposite,  and  the  group  of 
constables,  still  expectant,  chewed  straws  and  spat 
them  out  in  the  gutter,  with  the  utter  absence  of 
hurry  so  frequently  observed  in  men  whose  time 
is  owned  and  paid  for  by  the  government.  Noth- 
ing else  was  in  sight. 

"  What  are  those  men  waiting  for?"  roared 
Beachcombe.  "  Is  that  scoundrel  hiding  in  this 
house?  Call  them  in,  Perry,  and  make  them 
search  every  corner.  By  Heaven!  if  you  have  let 
him  slip  through  your  fingers  — " 

"Do  you  mean  the  captain?"  asked  the  trem- 
bling clerk.  "  He  went  out  half  an  hour  ago,  just 
before  me  and  Mr.  Double." 

"  And  no  one  stopped  him  ?  He  passed  through 
the  constables  unchallenged?  It  is  collusion;  they 
shall  hang  for  it.  Give  me  my  hat,  Perry  — " 

Samuel  flew  to  obey,  and  after  a  brief  search, 
emerged  from  beneath  a  table  with  a  somewhat 
weather-beaten  beaver,  turned  up  with  a  silver 
buckle. 

Beachcombe  dashed  it  from  his  hand.  "  That  is 
not  mine !  "  he  shouted ;  "  that  is  the  one  that  fellow 
wore  when  he  came  in.  He  has  left  it  behind  and 
taken  mine;  he  has  used  it  as  a  disguise,  and  those 
idiots  have  been  taken  in  by  it — "  He  flung  out 
of  the  room,  and  the  next  minute  was  heard  furi- 


THE  SEALED  PACKET  141 

ously  cursing  and  berating  the  crestfallen  consta- 
bles, who,  taking  him  for  their  long-awaited  prey, 
sprang  upon  him  as  soon  as  he  appeared,  and  but 
for  the  speedy  interference  of  Mr.  Perry,  would 
have  handled  him  roughly. 

The  men  fell  back  in  confusion  as  the  situation 
dawned  upon  them.  This  the  real  lord?  Then 
who  was  the  haughty  and  self-important  person- 
age who  had  ridden  away  from  them  so  coolly  after 
issuing  orders  with  such  an  air  of  authority? 

"  You  shall  sweat  for  this !  "  cried  Beachcombe. 
"  Where  is  my  horse  ?  " 

No  one  seemed  able  to  answer  this  question. 
The  men  glanced  from  one  to  another,  and  the 
mysterious  crowd  that  springs  up  from  the  roadside 
when  there  is  any  excitement,  began  to  collect. 
Some  one  suggested  that  a  gentleman  in  a  black  hat 
and  feather  had  been  seen  riding  out  of  the  Square, 
on  a  fine  chestnut  horse,  and  a  murmur  from  the 
crowd  confirmed  the  statement. 

By  this  time,  Lord  Beachcombe  had  become 
speechless  with  rage.  He  signed  to  a  passing  chair, 
and  getting  in  bareheaded,  pulled  the  curtains  close, 
and  departed  without  a  valedictory  greeting. 

After  a  visit  to  Bow  Street  which  gave  promise 
of  a  warm  quarter  of  an  hour  to  the  constables  on 
their  return,  Beachcombe  hurried  to  his  house,  over- 
looking St.  James'  Park,  to  await  Samuel's  visit, 
and  concoct  plans  by  which  Robin  should  not  only 
be  arrested,  but  brought  to  an  ignominious  and 
lingering  death.  Torture  was  supposed  to  have 
been  abolished  in  those  days,  but  treason  was  still 


142       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

i 

punishable  by  drawing  and  quartering,  and  while 
the  country  was  still  astir  with  Jacobite  plots,  the 
charge  of  treason  might  easily  be  fastened  on  any 
man  who  could  not  readily  account  for  his  comings 
and  goings. 

The  day  passed  slowly,  for  Lord  Beachcombe, 
shut  up  in  his  study,  gave  orders  that  no  visitor 
should  be  admitted  except  the  lawyer's  clerk.  Once 
possessor  of  the  proofs  —  if  proofs  they  were  — 
of  the  shadow  upon  his  birth,  he  could  set  his  heel 
without  fear  upon  the  throat  of  this  miscreant  who 
claimed  to  be  his  brother.  His  brother  — !  his 
elder  brother — !  The  shrill  cry  of  the  baby-heir 
smote  upon  his  ear,  and  goaded  him  to  such  a  mad- 
ness of  impotent  fury  that  if  Samuel  could  have 
seen  him  then  and  known  the  cause  of  the  furrow  on 
his  brow  and  the  blood  upon  his  bitten  lip,  he  might 
have  made  his  own  terms  and  become  rich  for  life. 

In  the  afternoon,  a  groom  came  to  say  that  his 
lordship's  horse  had  been  brought  to  the  stable  by 
a  ragged  boy,  who  had  made  off  before  he  could  be 
questioned. 

"What  condition  was  he  in?  Had  he  been  rid- 
den fast  or  far  ? "  Lord  Beachcombe  inquired 
eagerly. 

"  Hadn't  turned  a  hair,  my  Lord,"  was  the  re- 
ply; "might  V  been  for  a  canter  round  the  Park." 

Beachcombe  went  to  the  stable  himself  to  make 
inspection,  but  could  discover  no  mark  or  sign  to 
enlighten  the  most  sharpsighted.  "Oh!  if  you 
could  speak !  "  ,  he  muttered,  as  he  caressed  the 
glossy  coat  and  deer-like  head  of  his  favorite.  "  If 


THE  SEALED  PACKET  143 

you  could  tell  me  where  you  have  been  these  three 
hours!" 

But  there  was  nothing  to  be  learned;  not  so 
much  as  could  be  shown  by  a  muddy  fetlock.  If 
the  horse  had  been  out  of  town,  he  had  been  care- 
fully groomed  on  his  return  and  every  trace  of 
travel  removed.  His  master  returned  to  the  house, 
more  morose  and  vengeful  than  ever,  to  while  away 
the  hours  that  slowly  passed  until  it  was  time  to 
dress  for  the  great  entertainment  at  Marlborough 
House. 

When  he  descended  from  his  wife's  apartments, 
where  he  had  gone  to  display  himself  in  his 
masquerade  dress,  he  was  certainly  a  magnificent 
and  picturesque  figure.  His  costume,  of  the  period 
of  Charles  II.,  was  of  white  satin,  profusely  trimmed 
with  exquisite  lace,  and  adorned  with  dazzling 
orders  and  jewels.  A  wig  of  long  curls  softened 
the  harsh  outline  of  his  face,  and  a  skilful  touch  of 
rouge  relieved  his  swarthy  pallor  and  lent  a  bril- 
liancy to  his  dark  eyes.  His  resemblance  to  Robin 
was  remarkable  enough  then  to  have  struck  the 
most  unobservant. 

Over  his  arm  he  carried  a  voluminous  domino  of 
scarlet  silk,  and  a  mask  to  match  dangled  from  his 
jeweled  fingers. 

He  was  stepping  into  his  carriage,  when  a  little 
black  figure  darted  in  front  of  him,  and  Samuel, 
bowing  to  the  very  ground  before  this  gorgeous 
apparition,  besought  a  word  with  him. 

"  Leave  him  alone,"  cried  Beachcombe,  as  two  or 
three  serving-men  stepped  forward  to  sweep  this 


144       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

insect  from  their  master's  path.  "  Have  you  any- 
thing important  to  say  to  me?  "  he  eagerly  inquired. 

"Most  important,  your  worship  —  I  mean  your 
Lordship,"  replied  Samuel.  "  I've  got  it ;  only 
just  now,  though,  and  I've  run  every  step  of  the 
way,"  and  he  showed  a  corner  of  the  letter  hidden 
in  his  breast. 

"  Give  it  to  me,"  said  Beachcombe,  in  a  low,  con- 
centrated voice,  and  held  out  his  hand  for  it.  But 
Samuel  hung  back. 

"  My  Lord  —  my  Lord  — "  he  stammered,  clutch- 
ing the  packet  like  a  drowning  man  grasping  a 
straw,  "  will  you  give  me  my  hundred  pounds  ?  " 

"  What,  now ;  before  I  see  the  papers  ?  Besides, 
I've  not  so  much  about  me,"  exclaimed  Beachcombe. 
"  Why,  you  imp  of  the  devil,  are  you  afraid  to 
trust  me?  Here,  take  my  purse  and  give  me  that 
packet.  I  must  have  it  now,  do  you  hear?  And 
come  to  me  to-morrow  for  your  hundred  guineas." 

And  before  Samuel  could  make  up  his  mind  what 
to  do,  he  found  himself  standing  alone  with  a  silken 
purse,  full  of  golden  guineas,  in  his  hand,  and  the 
precious  packet  being  whirled  away  from  him  in 
the  earl's  chariot. 

Lord  Beachcombe,  with  the  packet  tightly 
clutched  in  his  hand,  gave  way  to  a  reverie  so  pleas- 
ant and  absorbing  that  he  did  not  notice  a  slight 
additional  jar  in  the  jolting  of  the  carriage  over 
the  ill-paved  street.  The  cause  of  the  jar  was  the 
sudden  accession  of  two  outside  passengers ;  one  on 
the  box  beside  the  coachman,  and  the  other  beside 
the  lackey  behind.  Each  of  these  functionaries,  at 


THE  SEALED  PACKET  145 

the  same  instant,  felt  the  cold  contact  of  a  pistol 
against  his  ear,  and  before  they  could  make  any 
outcry,  the  carriage  was  going  in  a  different  direc- 
tion. 

A  touch  of  the  whip  sent  the  horses  forward  at 
breakneck  speed.  "  Keep  quiet  and  you  are  safe," 
said  the  stranger  on  the  box,  and  in  a  moment  he 
slipped  over  the  coachman's  head  a  bag  that  served 
both  to  gag  and  blindfold  him.  The  same  opera- 
tion was  performed  simultaneously  upon  the  foot- 
man. Very  soon,  they  turned  sharply  under  an 
archway,  and  a  heavy  gate  was  slammed  behind 
them. 

Leaving  the  coachman  on  the  box,  his  captor  got 
off  and  opened  the  carriage  door. 

"  Descend  here,  Lord  Beachcombe,"  he  said, 
holding  up  a  lantern,  which  revealed  a  tall  man  in 
a  mask  and  behind  him  an  open  door. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this  outrage?"  de- 
manded Beachcombe,  fumbling  at  his  sword.  The 
masked  man,  with  very  little  ceremony,  hauled  him 
out  of  the  carriage,  and  disregarding  a  strenuous 
resistance,  conducted  him  into  a  small  room,  barely 
furnished  and  dimly  lighted.  He  then  saw  that  his 
assailant  was  almost  as  richly  dressed  as  himself, 
and  wore  a  jeweled  star  and  other  decorations  of 
great  splendor. 

"  What  am  I  brought  here  for?  "  he  asked,  in  a 
more  subdued  tone,  for  as  his  fear  of  robbery  sub- 
sided in  these  surroundings,  the  fact  that  he  had 
many  and  bitter  enemies  rose  up  before  him. 

"  No  harm  unless  you  bring  it  upon  yourself," 


146       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

replied  the  other.  "  At  worst,  an  hour  or  two's 
detention  and  solitude  and  the  loan  of  your  invita- 
tion to  the  duchess'  masquerade." 

"  Your  voice  sounds  familiar  to  me,"  said  Lord 
Beachcombe.  "  Will  you  not  remove  your  mask, 
now  that  we  are  alone?"  The  other  hesitated. 
"  Is  it  worth  while  to  keep  up  this  mystery,  Captain 
Freemantle?  You  see  I  recognize  you." 

"  Since  you  know  me,  it  is  not  worth  while,"  re- 
plied Robin,  unmasking.  As  he  did  so,  Beach- 
combe  whipped  out  his  sword  and  rushed  upon  him. 
Robin  had  no  time  to  arm  himself,  but  dodging  the 
onslaught  with  the  agility  of  a  cat,  closed  upon  his 
assailant  with  a  clever  wrestling  trick  that  threw 
him  upon  his  back  half -stunned,  and  before  he  could 
recover,  had  his  hands  securely  tied  behind  his  back 
with  his  gold- fringed  sash. 

"  You  would  have  it !  "  said  Robin.  "  Now  I 
can — "  his  eye  fell  upon  a  packet  that  had  fallen 
from  Beachcombe's  hand,  with  the  superscription 
upward : 

"  To  Mistress  Larky n, 

"  In  care  of  Mine  Hostess  of 
"  The  Fox  and  Grapes." 

He  picked  it  up  and  turned  it  over,  examining 
the  unbroken  seals,  and  glancing  from  time  to  time 
at  his  captive. 

"So  you  found  a  traitor  in  the  camp,"  he  said, 
at  last.  "  Let  him  beware  —  but,  tush !  I  know 
who  it  is;  it  can  be  no  other  than  Samuel.  I  need 
not  interfere  with  him;  he  will  find  his  own  way 


THE  SEALED  PACKET  147 

to  the  gallows  soon  enough.  I'm  afraid  I  shall 
have  to  search  you,  my  friend.  You  may  as  well 
take  it  quietly;  you  know  I'm  an  expert  at  dis-% 
covering  hidden  treasure." 

Lord  Beachcombe,  however,  would  not  submit 
quietly,  so  Robin  bound  him  securely  to  a  chair  and 
instituted  a  rigorous  search,  which  revealed  nothing 
except  the  emblazoned  note  of  invitation  to  the  ball. 
So,  warning  his  prisoner  that  any  outcry  would 
lead  to  rough  treatment  from  those  who  were  left 
in  charge  of  him,  Robin  withdrew,  taking  with  him 
the  packet  and  the  invitation,  and  also  Beachcombe's 
sword  and  the  lamp,  and  leaving  him  to  darkness 
and  reflection. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A  PAIR  OF  GLOVES 

WHEN  Robin  Freemantle  left  Prue,  she  ran 
to  the  mirror  and  critically  examined  her 
reflection  in  it. 

"  What  a  fright  I  look !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  with 
my  hair  plastered  down  and  my  nose  red  and  swol- 
len. Peggie,  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  that  man 
were  as  disappointed  with  his  bargain  as  I  am  with 
mine." 

"  You  don't  look  much  like  yourself,"  Peggie  ad- 
mitted frankly.  "  But  even  as  you  are,  you  must 
be  a  great  deal  prettier  than  the  sort  of  women  a 
highwayman  would  be  used  to." 

"  Why,  Peggie,  do  you  think  —  do  you  suppose 
Robin  has  women-thieves  for  friends?  Pick- 
pockets, perhaps  —  or  Gipsies !  Yet  he  looks  like 
a  gentleman.  Highwaymen  are  sometimes  brave 
and  chivalrous  —  one  hears  of  their  doing  generous 
things  —  they  are  not  like  common  malefactors  — " 

"  They  get  hanged,  all  the  same,"  said  Peggie 
unthinkingly. 

"  Oh !  Peggie,  you  wicked,  cruel  creature ;  how 
dare  you  say  such  things ! "  cried  Prue  indig- 
nantly. "  Robin  hanged !  Never,  never !  I  would 
rather  go  to  the  queen  and  implore  a  pardon  for 
him  on  my  knees.  Peggie,  you  saw  him  yourself. 

148 


A  PAIR  OF  GLOVES  149 

He  is  handsome,  is  he  not,  and  dignified?  He 
made  me  feel  very  much  ashamed  of  myself;  yet 
I  hate  him!  I  would  I  had  never  set  eyes  on  him! 
Do  you  suppose  he  despises  me,  Peggie?  " 

"  I  shouldn't  think  he  would  have  the  impu- 
dence!" exclaimed  Peggie.  "A  common  adven- 
turer, if  no  worse." 

"Adventurer,  'tis  true,  but  which  of  us  is  not? 
Am  /  not  an  adventuress,  Peggie?  Aye,  and  not 
so  very  honest  a  one  either.  Say  he  will  rob  my 
Lord  Bishop  of  his  wig  and  my  Lord  Tomnoddy 
of  his  purse;  what  better  do  I  when  I  buy  what 
I  can  not  pay  for,  and  marry  a  man  condemned  to 
be  hanged  in  order  to  cheat  my  creditors.  Oh !  my 
dear  Peggie,  there  are  many  fine  folk  with  their 
noses  in  the  air,  who  can  not  glance  into  a  mirror 
without  seeing  the  reflection  of  an  adventurer." 

"  Not  a  doubt  of  it,"  said  Peggie  philosophically, 
"  but  most  people,  when  they  look  in  a  mirror,  see 
nothing  there  but  what  they  want  to  see." 

"  Well,  what  I  see  is  just  the  reverse  of  that," 
said  Prue,  casting  a  dissatisfied  glance  at  her  own 
reflection,  as  she  hurried  away  to  rid  herself  of 
her  somber  dress  and  release  her  curls  from  their 
unaccustomed  bonds.  This  was  hardly  accom- 
plished to  her  satisfaction,  when  Sir  Geoffrey  Beau- 
desert  arrived,  in  a  state  of  great  excitement. 

"  Good  morning,  fair  ladies,"  he  cried,  saluting 
them  with  less  ceremony  than  usual.  "  No  need  to 
ask  whether  you  have  seen  this  morning's  Courant." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  inquired  Prue  innocently. 

"  Because  you  look  too  happy  and  unconcerned 


150       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

to  have  heard  the  disastrous  news,"  he  said,  with  a 
portentous  air.  "  I  grieve  to  be  a  harbinger  of  mis- 
fortune." 

"  You  alarm  us,"  cried  Prue.  "  What  has  hap- 
pened? Speak!" 

"  Calm  yourself,  dearest  Prudence,  and  remember 
that  /  will  not  suffer  any  harm  to  come  to  you." 
Sir  Geoffrey  lowered  his  voice  to  a  mysterious 
whisper,  "  The  highwayman  you  wot  of  has  es- 
caped!" 

"Is  that  all?"  said  Prue,  with  a  shrug;  "I 
thought  you  had  news  for  us.  We  knew  that  an 
hour  ago." 

"  You  knew  it  ?  How  ?  Has  the  villain 
dared  — " 

"How  did  we  know  it?"  Peggie  interrupted 
quickly,  to  prevent  a  retort  from  her  cousin. 
"  Why,  the  same  way  you  did,"  and  she  displayed 
the  printed  sheet  that,  adorned  with  a  rude  cut  of 
a  gallows,  gave  a  minute  account  of  the  morning's 
executions,  adding  that  the  queen's  clemency  had 
been  extended  to  Robin  Freemantle,  through  the 
influence  of  powerful  friends  in  certain  quarters, 
and  that  he  had  left  Newgate  with  great  secrecy  late 
Sunday  evening. 

Sir  Geoffrey  was  greatly  vexed  at  having  his 
surprise  discounted.  "  I'm  glad  to  find  you  taking  it 
so  unconcernedly,"  he  observed,  looking  anything 
but  glad.  "  I  feared  that  you  would  be  crushed 
by  such  a  calamity." 

"  Did  you,  indeed,  think  us  bloodthirsty  enough 
to  regret  the  saving  of  a  fellow-creature's  life?" 


A  PAIR  OF  GLOVES  151 

said  Prue,  with  grave  reproof.  "  I  hoped  that  you 
had  a  better  opinion  of  our  humanity." 

"  Humanity,"  echoed  the  baronet,  with  ill-dis- 
sembled irritation.  "  Such  angelic  sentiments  well 
become  the  cruel  beauty  whose  path  is  strewn  with 
bleeding  hearts.  But  has  my  dear  Prudence  no  pity 
to  spare  for  the  unhappy  swain,  condemned  to 
worse  than  death  by  Robin,  the  highwayman's,  un- 
expected good  luck?" 

"  On  the  contrary,"  laughed  Prue,  "  she  congrat- 
ulates you  on  your  escape;  believe  me,  a  far  greater 
piece  of  luck  than  Robin's." 

"  Do  not  jest,  dear  one,  I  implore  you,"  said  Sir 
Geoffrey  seriously.  "  You  certainly  have  not  con- 
sidered the  position  this  miscarriage  of  justice  has 
placed  you  in.  Let  me  lay  before  you  the  conse- 
quences — " 

"  Pray,  do  not,"  interrupted  Prue  pettishly. 
"  If  I  am  resigned  to  the  will  of  Heaven,  why  per- 
secute me  with  reasons  for  rebellion  ?  " 

Sir  Geoffrey,  with  his  hand  upon  his  heart, 
bowed  to  the  ground. 

"  Before  such  piety,  I  am  dumb,"  he  said.  "  Is 
it  permitted  to  ask  if  you  are  reconciled  to  your 
creditors  as  well  as  to  the  means  you  took  to  rid 
yourself  of  them?  " 

"  It  is  not,"  replied  Prue  with  overpowering 
dignity.  "  That  is  my  private  affair  and  I  do  not 
care  to  discuss  it,  even  with  Sir  Geoffrey  Beau- 
desert.  By  the  by,  Sir  Geoffrey  " —  with  an  en- 
tire change  of  tone  and  manner — "you  always 
know  the  latest  news;  do  tell  us  why  Mrs.  Tewkes- 


152       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

bury  has  gone  home  to  her  father,  and  whether  her 
husband  is  going  to  fight  a  duel  or  will  merely 
horsewhip  her  hair-dresser?" 

The  conversation  drifted  into  safer  channels, 
and  Prue  was  soon  her  own  bright,  frivolous,  en- 
chanting self.  Other  guests  dropped  in;  fashion, 
scandal,  and  the  duchess'  masquerade  were  dis- 
cussed, and  Prue  had  a  saucy  answer  for  every 
compliment  and  a  ready  laugh  for  every  jest, 
and  beneath  her  dainty  bodice  such  a  tumult  of 
fear  and  shame  and  sharp  sense  of  defeat,  and 
withal  such  strange,  swift  stabs  of  something  that 
was  not  pain,  and  yet  hurt  her  more  than  all  the 
other  emotions  that  quickened  her  pulse  and  sent 
the  blood  surging  through  her  brain. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  Prue's  guests 
were  making  their  adieux,  when  Robin's  messenger 
came  —  a  rustic-looking  youth  with  a  ruddy  com- 
plexion and  a  shock  of  tow-colored  hair.  He  was 
dressed  like  the  footboy  of  a  prosperous  tradesman, 
and  carried  an  oilskin  covered  basket  —  and  of  a 
surety  bore  no  resemblance  to  the  crippled  beggar 
who  had  followed  Robin  so  persistently  on  his  way 
to  the  conference  in  Lincoln's  Inn. 

Yet  it  was  the  same  man. 

With  an  air  of  dense  stupidity,  he  evaded  such 
questions  as  James  deigned  to  put  to  him,  and  re- 
iterated his  petition  for  a  personal  interview  with 
Lady  Prudence  Brooke,  for  whom  he  had  a  message 
that  was  to  be  delivered  to  her,  and  to  her  alone. 
James,  scenting  a  discreet  but  persistent  dun,  bade 
him  wait  in  the  library,  and  conveyed  his  request 


A  PAIR  OF  GLOVES  153 

to  Prue  with  the  same  air  of  respectful  con- 
dolence with  which  he  would  have  announced  any 
other  calamity.  Although  he  disapproved  of  her 
youth  and  frivolity,  James  would  have  yielded  to 
none  in  admiration  of  his  beautiful  young  mistress, 
whom  he  had  carried  in  his  arms  as  a  baby  and 
conspired  with  every  other  member  of  Lady  Drum- 
loch's  household  to  indulge,  spoil  and  flatter  from 
the  first  hour  that  her  blue  eyes  had  opened  on  a 
world  full  of  her  adorers. 

"  A  young  man  is  waiting  below,  my  Lady.  He 
has  a  message  for  you  which  he  will  not  send  up. 
I  told  him  you  were  engaged,  but  he  said  he  would 
wait  until  you  were  at  leisure." 

"What  sort  of  a  young  man,  James?  Does  he 
look  as  if  he  came  for  money  ? "  Prue  asked. 
"  You  know  most  of  my  duns  better  than  I  do." 

"  He  is  a  stranger  to  me,  my  Lady,  but  it  is 
likely  he  may  be  a  lawyer's  clerk  in  disguise." 

"  I  will  see  him,  James ;  bring  him  up  here,"  she 
interrupted. 

"  The  hair-dresser  is  here ;  shall  I  tell  him  to 
wait?  "  inquired  James. 

"  No ;  send  him  up-stairs.  Peggie,  go  and  have 
your  hair  dressed  first,  and  by  that  time  I  will  be 
ready." 

She  was  alone  when  the  young  man  was  shown 
in.  "  You  want  to  see  me  ?  "  she  said,  as  soon  as 
the  door  was  shut.  "  You  come  to  fetch  something, 
do  you  not?  " 

"  The  captain  told  me  — "  he  began,  then  stopped 
and  stared  mutely  at  her. 


154       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  Well,  what  did  the  captain  tell  you  ?  "  she  de- 
manded impatiently. 

"  He  told  me  I  should  see  the  most  beautiful 
lady  in  the  whole  world,  and  that  I  should  know 
her  for  the  Lady  Prudence  Brooke,  without  asking 
her  name,"  said  the  lad. 

"  Your  captain  is  a  fool ! "  cried  Prue.  But, 
try  as  hard  as  she  might  to  look  indignant,  she 
blushed  divinely  and  a  furtive  smile  played  hide- 
and-seek  among  her  dimples.  Of  all  Prue's  many 
charms  there  was  none  to  equal  her  smile.  It  was, 
perhaps,  on  that  account  that  she  smiled  often  and 
so  maintained  a  reputation  for  good-nature  that 
lured  many  an  unsuspecting  victim  into  disaster. 

"  That  he  is ! "  cried  the  messenger  heartily. 
"  For  he  said  he'd  done  this  beautiful  lady  a  great 
injury,  but  for  all  that  he  would  trust  his  life  — 
and  more  than  that  —  in  her  hands.  Can  any  man 
be  a  worse  fool  than  to  trust  a  woman  so  far  as 
that?" 

"  Said  he  that,  in  very  truth  ?  "  asked  Prue,  turn- 
ing very  pale. 

"  Aye,  and  other  things  just  as  foolish,"  said  the 
man,  with  the  same  stupid  air  of  rusticity.  "  Will 
it  please  your  ladyship  to  give  me  what  the  captain 
left  with  you?" 

She  brought  out  the  white  silken  packet  from  its 
hiding-place  among  the  laces  of  her  bodice,  and  held 
it  out  to  him.  "  Tell  your  captain  from  me,"  she 
said  disdainfully,  "  that  I  scarce  know  which  is  the 
greater  fool  —  he  or  his  messenger." 

The  man  laughed  very  heartily,  and  having  be- 


Prue  opened  the  parcel.  Page  154. 


A  PAIR  OF  GLOVES  155 

stowed  the  packet  safely,  opened  his  basket  and 
took  out  a  parcel  and  a  letter.  "  The  captain  bade 
me  present  these  to  your  ladyship,"  he  said,  and  was 
bowing  himself  out,  when  she  stopped  him  hur- 
riedly. 

"  I  forget  the  captain's  address,"  she  said ;  "  I 
might  want  to  —  to  send  a  message  to  him." 

"  Any  time  your  ladyship  wants  to  send  to  him, 
a  word  to  Steve  Larkyn,  at  Pip's  Coffee-house,  Es- 
sex Street,  Strand,  will  find  your  ladyship's  hum- 
ble servant,  who  will  be  most  honored  by  any 
commands  you  lay  upon  him,"  said  the  man.  And 
before  she  could  speak  again,  had  disappeared. 

Prue  opened  the  parcel,  which  contained  a  long, 
narrow  box  of  perfumed  wood,  lined  with  pink  sar- 
senet. The  next  moment,  she  was  flying  up-stairs, 
two  at  a  time,  in  her  haste  to  display  the  contents  to 
her  cousin. 

"  Look,  Peggie,  did  you  ever  see  anything  half 
so  lovely  ?  "  she  cried,  holding  out  for  her  inspec- 
tion a  pair  of  long  silk  gloves  as  filmy  as  a  cobweb 
and  exquisitely  embroidered  with  seed-pearls. 

Peggie  dared  not  move  her  head,  for  the  coiffeur 
was  busy  with  his  tongs,  but  she  rolled  her  eyes 
round  until  she  saw  the  gloves,  and  then  rolled 
them  up  as  far  as  they  would  go  to  emphasize  her 
one  word  of  admiration,  "  Incomparable!  " 

Prue  drew  on  one  of  the  gloves.  It  was  so 
elastic,  and  yet  so  clinging,  that  it  clasped  her  slen- 
der fingers  like  another  skin,  giving  them  even  a 
more  tapering  and  delicate  appearance  than  usual. 
She  did  not  open  her  letter  until  she  was  alone  in 


156       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

her  own  room,  and  then,  tearing  off  the  cover  with 
more  eagerness  than  she  would  have  cared  to  own, 
found  nothing  inside  but  ten  crisp,  new  Bank  of 
England  notes  for  one  hundred  pounds  each. 

She  dropped  them  as  though  they  had  been  so 
many  adders,  and  a  flush  of  anger  rose  to  her  cheek. 
"  I  suppose  he  has  been  waylaying  and  robbing 
some  one !  "  she  said  half-aloud,  "  and  hugs  himself 
to  think  he  can  buy  me  with  stolen  money!  Oh! 
he  is  just  as  base  as  the  rest  — " 

There  was  a  movement  in  the  other  room,  so 
Prue  snatched  up  the  bank-notes  and  crumpled 
them  into  her  jewel-box.  Not  even  to  Peggie  did 
she  wish  to  confide  this  fresh  instance  of  Robin's 
turpitude. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  RED  DOMINO 

FASHIONABLE  hours  were  early  in  the  days 
of  Queen  Anne,  and  it  was  a  well-known  fact 
that  the  imperious  Sarah  Churchill  did  not  easily 
pardon  the  slight  of  unpunctuality  at  her  entertain- 
ments. So  by  nine  o'clock  the  gorgeous  drawing- 
rooms  were  well-filled  and  the  steady  stream  of 
rank  and  beauty  poured  up  the  great  staircase  as 
fast  as  chariots  and  chairs  could  discharge  their 
glittering  loads. 

The  sight  was  a  dazzling  one;  every  nationality, 
every  celebrity  was  represented.  Cardinals  paid 
court  to  Gipsies,  Charlemagne  and  Henry  the 
Eighth  contended  for  the  favor  of  Helen  of  Troy, 
and  in  front  of  the  dais  upon  which  the  duchess 
stood  unmasked,  to  receive  her  guests,  an  endless 
procession  passed,  of  monks  and  devils,  kings  and 
clowns,  swashbucklers,  nuns,  fairies,  princesses,  al- 
legorical and  mythological  personages  —  a  veritable 
phantasmagoria,  in  which  the  mask  and  domino 
afforded  just  as  much  concealment  as  the  wearer 
desired,  but  no  more. 

A  ripple  of  laughter  or  a  murmur  of  admiration 
at  frequent  intervals  announced  the  arrival  of  some 
specially  brilliant  or  humorous  masker,  and  when 
the  crowd  was  at  its  densest,  a  couple  approached 

157 


158       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

the  dais,  followed  by  a  stream  of  hilarious  compli- 
ments. 

Foremost  came  Prue,  dressed  as  a  shepherdess. 
Over  a  skirt  of  her  grandmother's  priceless  lace, 
she  wore  a  Watteau  dress  of  white  silk,  brocaded 
with  bunches  of  rosebuds  and  forget-me-nots,  and 
coquettishly  perched  upon  her  luxuriant  curls  was 
a  little  straw  hat,  adorned  with  a  wreath  of  roses 
and  a  flowing  knot  of  blue  ribbon.  The  pearl- 
embroidered  gloves  covered  her  hands,  in  one  of 
which  she  carried  a  crook  all  laced  with  fluttering 
ribbons,  and  in  the  other  a  silken  cord,  by  which 
she  led  Peggie,  admirably  disguised  as  a  lamb;  of 
gigantic  growth,  to  be  sure,  but  delightfully  and 
gracefully  grotesque  as  she  ambled  and  pranced 
beside  the  little  shepherdess,  who  at  every  other 
step,  stopped  to  caress  and  encourage  her. 

The  little  procession  was  so  irresistibly  funny 
that  the  duchess,  at  first  rather  disturbed  by  the 
rising  tide  of  laughter  and  applause,  as  soon  as  she 
set  eyes  upon  the  cause  of  it,  joined  in  with  the 
utmost  heartiness,  and  even  the  queen,  who  sat  be- 
side her  in  a  chair  of  state,  vouchsafed  a  smile  of 
genuine  amusement,  rare  enough  upon  the  face  of 
that  woman  of  few  emotions. 

Dancing  was  going  on  in  the  great  ball-room,  but 
Prue  refused  to  dance.  "  I  dare  not  leave  my 
lamb  at  the  mercy  of  all  these  wolves,"  she  declared, 
in  a  falsetto  voice  that  deceived  no  one.  "  Is  there 
no  grassy  nook  where  I  can  repose,  while  my  pet 
frolics  round  me  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  a  voice,  which  she  recognized 


THE  RED  DOMINO  159 

as  Sir  Geoffrey's.  "  There  are  secluded  retreats  in 
the  conservatories  sacred  to  Chloris  and  her 
flock—" 

"  Including  Strephon?  No,  thank  you,"  and 
warning  him  off  with  her  crook,  she  roamed  about, 
launching  the  harmless  arrows  of  her  ready  wit 
against  such  of  the  guests  as  she  recognized,  or 
pretended  to. 

Presently  a  voice  began  to  murmur  close  behind 
her  — 

"  Her  hair, 

In  ringlets  rather  dark  than  fair, 
Does  down  her  ivory  bosom  roll, 
And  hiding  half,  adorn  the  whole. 
In  her  high  forehead's  fair  half-round 
Love  sits  in  open  triumph  crown'd. 
Her  lips,  no  living  bard,  I  weet, 
May  say  how  red,  how  round,  how  sweet — " 

"Oh!  hush!"  cried  Prue,  in  a  great  flutter; 
"how  could  you  be  so  rash?  You  will  be  recog- 
nized." She  turned  a  quick,  timid  glance  back- 
ward, and  was  promptly  reassured.  The  tall, 
stately  figure,  picturesquely  draped  in  a  voluminous 
red  domino,  had  nothing  about  it  to  attract  atten- 
tion, and  a  red  mask  with  a  deep  fall  of  gold-lace 
concealed  the  entire  face,  except  the  firm  mouth 
and  strong,  square  chin. 

"  What  made  you  come  here,  of  all  places  in 
the  world  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Chiefly  to  see  you,  but  partly  because  I  had 
business  here,"  he  answered. 

Poor  Prue  thought  of  the  bank-notes,  and  al- 


160       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

most  collapsed.  What  business  could  a  highway- 
man have  at  a  ball  unless  to  rob  the  guests  while 
pretending  to  be  one  of  them?  Just  then  Peggie 
drew  her  attention  by  pulling  at  the  cord. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,"  she  whispered,  "  come  out 
of  this  crowd.  I  am  so  hot,  muffled  in  this  sheep- 
skin, I  shall  die  if  I  don't  get  to  the  air." 

Prue  signed  to  Robin  to  follow,  and  led  her 
lambkin  away.  Outside  the  ball-room,  they  were 
soon  in  comparative  solitude.  In  the  card-rooms  a 
few  elderly  people  had  thrown  off  their  masks  and 
given  themselves  over  to  the  full  enjoyment  of 
whist  and  ecarte.  Here  and  there  a  tete-a-tete  was 
progressing  behind  the  kindly  shelter  of  albums  or 
portfolios.  In  the  library  a  sedate  couple  mused 
side  by  side  over  the  latest  number  of  the  Spectator, 
upside  down,  while  two  or  three  portly,  be-starred 
and  be-ribboned  fogies  discussed  the  threatened 
Jacobite  uprising  over  an  exclusive  bottle  of  Bur- 
gundy. 

Prue  was  at  home  in  every  corner  of  Marl- 
borough  House,  and  had  no  difficulty  in  piloting 
her  companions  into  a  cool,  dim-lighted  conserva- 
tory, where  the  sound  of  voices  and  music  reached 
the  ear  agreeably  softened  by  distance. 

"  Every  one  has  seen  me,"  said  Peggie ;  "  I'll  get 
rid  of  this  sheepskin,  and  then  I  can  dance." 

"  Peggie  would  rather  dance  than  eat,  sleep  or 
go  to  church,"  remarked  Prue,  seating  herself  and 
making  a  little,  half -hesitating,  half -inviting  move- 
ment toward  the  seat  beside  her. 

Robin  was  not  slow  in  availing  himself  of  the 


THE  RED  DOMINO  161 

opportunity.  There  was  something  in  Prue's  man- 
ner that  allured  him,  while  it  kept  him  at  a  distance. 
He  longed  to  take  her  in  his  arms  as  he  had  done 
once;  yet  he  dared  not  touch  her  hand. 

"  I  am  glad  to  have  an  opportunity  of  speaking 
to  you,"  she  said,  removing  her  mask.  "  You  sent 
me  something  to-day — " 

"  Yes  —  oh !  you  don't  know  how  happy  you  have 
made  me  by  wearing  them,"  he  said  earnestly. 

"  Ah !  yes,"  she  started  and  looked  down  at  the 
gloves;  "they  are  beautiful  —  just  the  very  thing 
for  my  dress,  too.  But  that  was  not  what  I  meant." 

A  deep  flush  burned  his  face  under  the  mask.  "  I 
beg  and  implore  you  not  to  speak  of  anything  else 
I  sent,"  he  said,  in  a  low,  tremulous  voice.  "  Let 
me  deceive  myself  into  the  belief  that  you  acknowl- 
edge that,  at  least,  as  my  rightful  privilege." 

She  raised  her  lovely  eyes  to  his  with  a  puzzled 
expression,  then  dropped  them,  a  little  embarrassed. 
"  We  will  not  discuss  that,"  she  said,  "  but  unfor- 
tunately I  can  not  avoid  speaking  about  the  money, 
because  —  you  see,  I  can  not  help  knowing  that  you 
—  that  perhaps  —  that  perhaps  it  honestly  belongs 
to  somebody  else  and  you  have  no  right  to  give 
it  to  me.  There ! "  She  looked  apprehensively  at 
him,  fearing  an  outburst  of  rage,  but  he  was  quite 
calm,  and  the  mask  concealed  any  change  of  coun- 
tenance. 

"  You  are  very  scrupulous,"  he  said  coldly. 

"  Oh !  I  know  you  had  no  reason  to  expect  hon- 
esty from  me !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  touch  of 
temper  in  her  voice.  "  But  when  you  threw  your 


162       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

purse  to  me  in  the  carriage,  I  had  no  opportunity 
of  returning  it  and  I  never  expected  to  see  you 
again.  Besides,  you  took  mine  and  —  and — " 
She  glanced  at  him  out  of  the  tail  of  her  eye,  but 
he  did  not  accept  the  challenge.  "  You  think,  per- 
haps," she  went  on,  quite  angrily  now,  "  that  I  have 
done  a  much  worse  thing  for  money  than  ever  you 
did;  but  if  I  have  married  a  robber — " 

"  Stop,  stop!  "  he  said  authoritatively.  "  If  you 
must  say  these  things  about  yourself,  it  shall  not 
be  to  me.  Insult  me  as  much  as  you  please,  but  do 
not  accuse  me  of  daring  to  blame  you  for  anything 
you  have  done,  or  could  do.  Tell  me,  if  I  assure 
you  that  that  money  is  my  very  own,  will  you  take 
my  word  for  it  ?  " 

She  hesitated  and  softened.  "  Tell  me  truly  — 
in  what  way  your  own?  Do  not  fear  to  trust  me." 

"  Trust  you !  Do  you  not  know  that  you  could 
charm  any  secrets  of  my  own  from  me  by  a  kind 
word?  But  this  is  no  secret;  it  is  the  price  of  my 
birthright,  received  in  honest  sale  and  barter  over 
a  lawyer's  table.  You  will  believe  me,  won't  you  ?  " 

She  put  out  both  her  hands,  with  a  gesture  of 
enchanting  frankness.  "  I  will  believe  anything 
you  tell  me,"  she  said;  "  I  know  you  would  not  de- 
ceive me." 

He  took  the  two  little  fluttering  hands  in  his,  and 
raised  them  one  after  another  to  his  lips. 

"  I  see  you  are  not  wearing  a  sling,"  she  re- 
marked. "  Is  your  arm  healed  ?  " 

"  It  was  nothing ;  a  broken  collar-bone  is  quickly 
cured,"  he  said  carelessly,  though  delighted  by  even 


THE  RED  DOMINO  163 

so  slight  a  token  of  interest  from  her.  "  Besides, 
the  person  whose  domino  I  borrowed,  does  not 
wear  his  arm  in  a  sling,  and  I  do  not  wish  any 
difference  to  be  remarked  when  he  resumes  it." 

"  Then  you  are  here  in  some  one  else's  disguise  ?  " 
she  said  quickly.  "  What  will  you  do  when  we 
unmask  ?  " 

"  At  midnight  the  right  face  will  be  found  under 
this  mask,"  he  replied. 

"  What  fun  it  would  be ! "  she  cried,  with  reck- 
less gaiety,  "  if  you  were  to  stay  until  midnight 
and  unmask  with  the  rest!  I  wonder  if  any  one 
would  recognize  you." 

"If  the  experiment  will  amuse  you,  I  will  stay 
and  try  it,"  said  Robin  tranquilly. 

Her  own  voice  dropped  almost  to  a  whisper. 
"  To  amuse  me?  "  she  murmured.  "  What  do  you 
suppose  would  happen  ?  " 

"  Probably  nothing  at  all ;  I  am  not  so  well 
known.  At  the  worst,  they  would  merely  arrest 
me,"  he  said. 

"  Merely  arrest  you !  and  send  you  back  to  — 
prison,  I  suppose?  " 

"  Why,  'tis  likely ;  and  then,  in  a  few  days,  you 
would  be  free  —  to  marry  some  one  you  love." 

"  I  have  had  enough  of  marrying,"  she  said  petu- 
lantly. "  Besides,  had  I  loved  one  man,  I  would  not 
have  married  another,  even  in  jest." 

"  Even  in  jest,"  he  repeated.  "  Well,  have  a 
little  patience  and  you  may  laugh  as  heartily  as  you 
please  at  this  merry  jest.  When  you  are  free,  will 
you  — "  he  hesitated  — "  I  owe  you  a  chance  to 


164       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

make  a  better  use  of  your  freedom  next  time,  yet 
it  irks  me  to  think  that  you  will  very  likely  throw 
it  away  again  upon  one  who  is  not  worthy  of  you." 

"  Do  you  mean  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert?  "  she 
said.  "  Do  not  fear,  I  shall  never  marry  him." 

"  You  will  not  ?  "  he  exclaimed  eagerly.  "  You 
do  not  love  him?  Oh!  you  give  me  new  life;  I 
care  little  what  becomes  of  me,  if  I  am  sure  you 
will  not  marry  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert." 

"  Hush-sh,"  she  whispered,  peering  round  in 
the  dim  twilight  of  their  retreat ;  "  I  thought  I 
heard  a  movement;  suppose  any  one  had  overheard 
you!" 

He  clapped  his  hand  on  his  sword,  but  every- 
thing was  still  except  the  distant  music  and  the 
approaching  voices  of  another  pair  in  search  of 
solitude. 

"  Let  us  go,"  said  Prue,  rising  in  a  tremor  and 
adjusting  her  mask.  "  I  would  not,  for  the  world, 
have  anything  happen  to  you,  and  I  fear  you 
are  not  safe  here ;  we  have  been  incautious  — 
prithee,  begone  from  this  house — " 

"  Do  not  be  uneasy,  dear  Lady  Prudence ;  I  am 
safe  here,"  said  Robin,  devouring  her  with  his  eyes. 
"  I  may  never  see  you  again ;  do  not  banish  me  — " 

"  Never  see  me  again?  "  she  interrupted.  "  Why 
not?  I  am  sure  you  are  in  some  danger  you  will 
not  tell  me  of,  else  why  should  I  never  see  you 
again  ?  " 

"  Would  you  care  if  you  did  not  see  me 
again?" — he  was  beginning,  in  a  passionate  whis- 
per, when  Peggie,  released  from  her  sheepskin  and 


THE  RED  DOMINO  165 

clad  in  somewhat  scanty  drapery  intended  to  rep- 
resent springtime,  pounced  upon  them,  delighted 
with  the  semi-nudity  that  displayed  her  charming 
form,  while  the  mask  concealed  her  plain  face. 

"Have  I  been  away  long  enough?"  she  cried 
saucily.  "  Have  you  had  plenty  of  time  to  quarrel 
and  make  love?  Come,  Prue;  eleven  o'clock  has 
struck,  and  we  shall  scarcely  be  in  time  for  a  coun- 
try-dance before  we  unmask.  Hasten!  " 

She  was  drawing  Prue  after  her  by  one  hand, 
but  she  hung  back,  extending  the  other  to  Robin, 
who  stood  irresolute,  longing  to  follow,  yet  not 
venturing,  unbidden. 

"  Farewell,"  she  said,  in  a  thrilling  voice.  "  Pri- 
thee, do  not  linger." 

He  pressed  a  kiss  on  her  finger-tips  and  was  still 
looking  after  her  with  his  heart  in  his  eyes,  when 
a  hand  brushed  his  arm  with  a  peculiar  touch,  and 
turning  with  his  wandering  senses  suddenly  on  the 
alert,  he  saw  a  figure  in  a  monk's  habit,  strolling 
slowly  toward  the  most  crowded  card-room.  He 
followed,  and  soon  caught  up  with  him. 

"  Your  dress  is  too  conspicuous,"  said  the  monk, 
in  a  harsh  whisper.  "  There  is  work  to  be  done, 
instantly,  and  your  dress  unfits  you  for  it." 

"  Show  me  the  work,"  said  Robin,  apparently 
greatly  interested  in  two  players  who  were  throw- 
ing dice  for  high  stakes. 

"  I  expected  to  find  you  at  your  post,  and  after 
a  long  search,  where  do  I  discover  you?  You,  of 
all  men  —  at  the  feet  of  the  most  heartless  little 
Jezebel  in  London,"  said  the  monk,  with  bitterness. 


1 66       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

Robin  laughed  silently.  "  Have  you  also  been 
under  her  feet  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Well,  if  it  were  any 
one  else,  I  would  kill  him  for  such  a  calumny  upon 
the  most  virtuous  and  adorable  lady  in  the  world; 
but  I  can  not  spare  you,  so  give  me  your  news." 

"  The  papers  stolen  from  a  certain  general  are 
here,  in  the  possession  of  a  man  who  does  not  know 
their  importance,  but  only  that  Madame  Sarah  will 
pay  handsomely  for  them.  Not  being  able  to  ob- 
tain audience  of  her,  he  is  now  leaving  the  house." 

"Why  do  you  make  such  a  long  story  of  it?" 
said  Robin  impatiently.  "  Describe  him  to  me,  and 
I  will  see  to  the  rest." 

"  There  is  no  hurry ;  he  has  a  sweetheart  among 
the  maids,  and  will  be  some  time  about  his  adieux. 
I  will  show  him  to  you,  but  you  must  get  rid  of 
that  scarlet  affair;  what  have  you  underneath? 
Oh!  that  is  still  worse;  satin  and  velvet  and  dia- 
monds! Why  couldn't  you  come  quietly  dressed, 
like  the  rest  of  us?  " 

Robin  blushed  under  his  mask,  for  he  knew  very 
well  that  if  Prue  had  not  been  among  the  guests, 
the  monk's  frock  or  the  student's  cap  and  gown 
would  have  been  fine  enough  for  his  purpose. 

"  Never  mind  my  dress,"  he  said  shortly.  "  You 
can  lend  me  your  frock,  and  if  you  have  no  further 
business  here,  you  can  do  me  a  service." 

As  they  went  out  together,  Robin  explained  to 
his  friend  the  manner  in  which  he  had  obtained  a 
domino  and  an  invitation,  and,  incidentally,  the 
predicament  of  Lord  Beachcombe.  Together  they 
sought  and  found  his  carriage,  at  a  place  previously 


THE  RED  DOMINO  167 

arranged  for,  and  within  it  the  exchange  of  gar- 
ments was  effected. 

"  Now  go  to  the  house  by  the  riverside,  where 
you  will  find  Lord  Beachcombe  tied  hand  and  foot 
in  the  dark  in  the  guard-room,  and  his  lackeys 
under  similar  conditions  in  another  room.  Steve 
Larky n  is  in  charge  of  them.  Restore  the  mask 
and  domino  to  Lord  Beachcombe,  return  him  and 
his  varlets  to  the  carriage,  blindfolded,  and  when 
you  have  taken  them  a  safe  distance  from  Essex 
Street,  set  them  free  to  go  their  way  to  the  ball  or 
the  devil,  whichever  pleases  them." 

The  carriage  drove  away  and  Robin,  completely 
concealed  under  the  monk's  gown,  made  his  way 
back  to  the  house.  Not,  however,  through  the 
brilliantly  lighted  main-entrance,  but  this  time  by 
a  side-door  that  led  to  the  servants'  quarters. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

AT   THE   UNMASKING 

WHEN  Prue  and  Robin  had  left  the  con- 
servatory a  sufficiently  long  time  to  insure 
their  return  to  the  ball-room,  out  from  behind  a 
clump  of  plants  slipped  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert. 
Observing  her  exit  from  the  ball-room  with  a  tall 
and  conspicuously  habited  masker,  he  had  followed 
with  the  intention  of  interrupting  a  tete-a-tete  and 
forestalling  one  of  Prue's  little  flirtations  that, 
however  harmless  in  themselves,  were  dangerous, 
as  he  knew  by  experience,  to  anterior  claims. 

When  he  found  that,  avoiding  the  well-lighted 
rooms,  Prue  guided  her  companion  to  an  out-of- 
the-way  retreat,  where  it  was  unlikely  that  they 
would  be  disturbed  by  any  one  less  familiar  with 
the  house  than  herself,  his  annoyance  increased,  and 
with  it  his  anxiety  to  know  who  the  favored  swain 
might  be,  and  when  Peggie,  with  the  good-natured 
intention  of  giving  Robin  an  opportunity,  left  them 
to  rid  herself  of  her  sheepskin,  the  green-eyed 
monster  took  complete  possession  of  Sir  Geoffrey 
and  prompted  a  baseness  of  which,  a  moment  be- 
fore, he  would  have  blushed  to  think  himself 
capable. 

The  only  available  concealment  was  at  such  a 
distance  that  at  first  nothing  reached  him  but  the 

1 68 


AT  THE  UNMASKING  169 

murmur  of  voices.  He  could  see  that  Prue 
stretched  out  her  hands  to  her  companion,  and  that 
he  kissed  them  with  ardor,  but  until  his  own  name 
was  mentioned,  he  heard  nothing  but  a  disjointed 
word  here  and  there.  Then,  with  ears  preternatu- 
rally  sharpened  by  something  even  more  poignant 
than  jealousy,  he  overheard  Prue's  repudiation  of 
himself  and  her  companion's  expression  of  relief 
and  gratitude  for  the  same. 

It  was  fortunate,  perhaps,  that  the  colloquy  was 
so  soon  brought  to  an  end  by  Peggie's  eagerness 
to  carry  her  cousin  off  to  the  ball-room,  whither  Sir 
Geoffrey  followed  as  quickly  as  he  deemed  wise, 
only  to  find  Prue  already  standing  up  in  a  coun- 
try-dance, and  the  tall  masker  in  scarlet  missing. 
He  hunted  everywhere  for  him,  but  in  vain,  and 
finally  withdrew  to  one  of  the  card-rooms,  where  he 
played  with  a  marked  absence  of  his  usual  skill, 
and  also  of  the  luck  for  which  he  was  proverbial. 

At  midnight  a  flourish  of  trumpets  announced 
that  the  moment  for  unmasking  had  arrived.  The 
dancers  formed  a  double  line  and  marched  past  the 
dais,  each  couple  unmasking  as  they  saluted  the 
duchess  and  her  royal  guest.  Following  them 
came  an  almost  interminable  procession  of  the 
beauty,  talent  and  rank  of  the  country,  and  among 
the  very  last  of  these,  Sir  Geoffrey's  search  was 
rewarded.  The  tall  figure  in  its  scarlet  drapery 
suddenly  appeared,  he  knew  not  whence,  and  within 
a  few  feet  of  him,  doffed  domino  and  mask  and 
revealed  the  familiar  but  unlooked-for  person  of 
Lord  Beachcombe. 


i;o       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

Instantly  there  flashed  into  Sir  Geoffrey's  mind 
an  explanation  of  the  words  he  had  overheard, 
which  roused  him  to  an  almost  uncontrollable  fury. 
This  man,  once  his  rival,  was  still  in  love  with  Prue, 
and  after  goading  him  into  a  monstrous  wager 
about  her,  had  exerted  some  infernal  arts  or  argu- 
ments to  induce  her  to  play  the  jilt  once  more  and 
thus  rob  him,  at  one  stroke,  of  his  bride  and  his 
money. 

"  Oh ! "  he  muttered,  with  intense  bitterness, 
"  such  a  trick  is  worthy  of  a  man  who  would  not  pay 
his  own  sister's  dowry,  until  he  was  sued  for  it ! 
He  shall  answer  for  this  treachery  with  his  heart's 
best  blood,  and  as  for  her — "  His  look  boded  ill 
for  the  future  of  the  capricious  beauty  toward 
whom  his  feeling  just  then  was  less  like  love  than 
hate.  He  was  forced  into  self-control,  however, 
by  the  reflection  that  to  provoke  a  meeting  on  this 
issue  would  place  him  in  a  more  than  equivocal 
position  and  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  find  some 
other  cause  of  quarrel. 

Beachcombe,  meanwhile,  unconscious  of  what 
had  happened  under  shelter  of  his  disguise,  saluted 
his  hostess  and  his  sovereign  and  passed  on  with 
a  bland  exterior  and  a  temper  in  a  highly  inflam- 
mable state. 

Sir  Geoffrey  lost  no  time  in  throwing  himself  in 
Beachcombe's  way.  They  exchanged  greetings 
and  then,  "How  goes  the  courting?"  asked  my 
lord.  "  How  is  it  you  are  not  in  attendance  on 
the  fair  widow  ?  " 


AT  THE  UNMASKING  171 

Sir  Geoffrey's  fury  choked  him.  Was  ever  such 
impudence  as  this  scoundrel's? 

"  Do  you  require  an  explanation  on  the  sub- 
ject? "  he  said,  between  his  clenched  teeth. 

"  Far    from    it,"    retorted   Beachcombe,    with    a 
jeering  laugh.     "  It  will  be  quite  enough  for  me  , 
to  know  that  she  has  jilted  you ;  I  care  nothing  for , 
the  details.     Still,  if  I  were  you,  I  would  not  carry 
my  willow  quite  so  openly." 

"  No  doubt  your  lordship  regards  it  as  quite 
permissible  to  prejudice  the  Viscountess  Brooke 
against  a  suitor  who  has  a  wager  with  you,  de- 
pendent on  her  favor,"  sneered  Beaudesert. 

"  I  hardly  fancy  it  would  be  diplomatic,"  drawled 
the  other,  not  having  the  clew  to  Sir  Geoffrey's 
meaning,  and  relishing  his  peevishness  as  evidence 
of  defeat.  "  As  the  lady  has  probably  never  par- 
doned my  speedy  consolation,  I  doubt  not  that  any- 
thing I  might  say  against  you  would  only  drive  her 
into  your  arms.  This  is  the  first  time  I  have  seen 
the  Lady  Prudence  since  Her  Majesty  requested  her 
to  retire  from  the  court  a  year  ago.  She  appears 
to  me  even  more  beautiful  and  vivacious  than  for- 
merly. I  must  endeavor  to  make  my  peace  with 
her;  one  can  not  afford  to  be  at  odds  with  so  be- 
witching a  creature,  especially  if  she  is  to  be  at- 
tached to  the  queen's  household  again,  where  we 
shall  be  obliged  to  meet  constantly." 

Sir  Geoffrey  was  so  dumfounded  by  what  he 
took  to  be  the  earl's  audacity  and  dissimulation, 
that  he  fell  back  and  allowed  him  to  follow  in  the 


172       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

wake  of  the  subject  of  their  conversation.  It  was 
but  a  small  consolation  to  him  that  Prue  was  in 
his  power  through  her  rash  marriage;  she  had 
already  shown  him  that  she  considered  him  particeps 
criminis,  if  she  did  not  go  so  far  as  to  lay  the 
blame  on  his  shoulders.  It  was  plain  to  him 
that  Beachcombe  would  give  him  no  opening  for 
a  quarrel  about  her  and  that  he  would  have  to  find 
some  other  cause  for  the  duel  he  was  determined 
to  force  upon  him,  but  that  gave  him  no  uneasiness. 
At  that  period  dueling,  though  nominally  unlawful, 
was  a  highly  popular  means  of  settling  any  and 
every  difference  between  gentlemen,  and  love, 
cards,  etiquette,  family  jars,  political  opinions  and 
a  host  of  more  or  less  trivial  causes  gave  plausible 
excuse  for  the  indulgence  of  personal  hatred.  Sir 
Geoffrey  was  a  dead  shot  and  a  fairly  skilled 
swordsman,  and  had  come  off  scathless  in  en- 
counters with  far  more  formidable  antagonists  than 
this  young  lordling,  whose  prowess  was  still  un- 
tried and  whose  reputation  for  courage  or  any  other 
lofty  quality  was  yet  to  make. 

With  a  wager  of  five  thousand  guineas  contin- 
gent upon  Prue's  fidelity  to  him,  Sir  Geoffrey  was 
not  prepared  to  be  overnice  about  the  pretext  that 
would  put  such  an  antagonist  hors  de  combat  for  a 
few  weeks. 

While  he  was  turning  over  in  his  mind  a  variety 
of  baits  by  which  he  might  draw  Beachcombe  into 
a  quarrel,  the  latter  pursued  his  way  through  the 
crowd,  exchanging  greetings  and  receiving  con- 
gratulations upon  the  advent  of  his  son  and  heir, 
and  at  last  reached  Prudence.  It  was  no  very  easy 


AT  THE  UNMASKING  173 

task  to  edge  his  way  through  the  throng  of  her 
admirers,  nor  had  he  any  special  reason  to  felici- 
tate himself  upon  his  success  when  he  had  gained 
it.  He  came  up,  bowing  low,  with  his  hand  upon 
his  breast,  pouring  out  the  customary  stream  of 
high-flown  compliments  and  asseverations  that  the 
sun,  moon  and  stars  had  refused  their  light  since 
her  eyes,  the  brightest  of  all  luminaries,  had  been 
withdrawn  from  the  firmament ! 

Prue  regarded  him  with  one  of  her  most  beam- 
ing smiles. 

"  '  And  pray,  sir,  when  came  you  from  hell  ? 
Our    friends    there  —  did    you    leave   them 
well?' 

she  inquired,  with  an  air  of  flattering  interest. 

In  the  midst  of  the  laughter  that  greeted  this 
sally,  Peggie  was  heard  to  exclaim,  in  a  voice  of 
mock-horror,  "  Prue !  how  shocking !  " 

"  My  dear,  you  must  blame  Mr.  Prior,  not  me, 
if  you  object  to  the  quotation,"  said  Prue  demurely. 

"  Maybe,"  retorted  Peggie ;  "  but  in  conversation 
one  can  not  see  the  inverted  commas,  and  you  know 
Lord  Beachcombe  does  not  read  poetry." 

"  True,  I  apologize,"  said  Prue,  and  turning 
again  to  her  former  suitor,  she  dropped  a  deep  curt- 
sey. "  How  is  it,  Lord  Beachcombe  that  we  have 
not  seen  you  earlier?"  she  asked  graciously. 
"  When  did  you  arrive  from  —  home  ?  and  did  you 
leave  her  ladyship  and  the  baby  well  ?  " 

The  laugh  that  followed  this  was  utterly  incom- 
prehensible to  the  proud  father,  who  replied  with 


174       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

\ 

urbanity,  feeling  that  Prue  showed  great  self- 
denial  in  making  these  inquiries  so  publicly  and 
exposing  herself  to  the  hilarity  of  those  who  could 
not  fail  to  remember  how  she  had  forfeited  the 
proud  position  of  wife  to  the  present  and  mother 
of  the  future  Earl  of  Beachcombe.  He  felt  quite 
sorry  for  the  regret  and  mortification  she  must  be 
suffering  and  was  inclined  to  concede  that  the  pun- 
ishment was  overharsh  for  the  frailty  of  a  creature 
so  winsome. 

He  offered  his  hand  to  lead  her  into  the  supper- 
room  and  the  magnetic  thrill  of  her  touch  sent  the 
blood  surging  through  his  veins  in  the  old  accus- 
tomed way  —  he  looked  down  into  the  sparkling 
depths  of  her  lovely  eyes  and  straightway  forgot  — 
everything  that  he  ought  to  have  remembered.  It 
needed  but  the  gloomy  frown  of  Sir  Geoffrey  Beau- 
desert  to  incite  him  to  offer  the  most  effusive  atten- 
tions and  Prue  to  permit,  if  not  actually  encour- 
age them,  until  wearying  of  a  pastime  that  had 
nothing  to  recommend  it  but  its  folly,  she  turned 
the  battery  of  her  fascinations  in  another  direc- 
tion. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Lord  Beachcombe 
was  without  curiosity  as  to  the  use  Robin  had  made 
of  the  invitation  and  disguise  he  had  borrowed  so 
peremptorily.  He  questioned  several  people,  but 
no  one  seemed  to  have  observed  the  scarlet  domino, 
and  the  one  person  who  could  have  enlightened 
him,  he  did  not  dream  of  connecting  with  the  ex- 
ploits of  a  highwayman.  He  began  to  feel  reas- 
sured, and  a  couple  of  bottles  of  wine  helped  to  re- 


AT  THE  UNMASKING  175 

store  his  damaged  amour  propre,  though  his  tem- 
per was  considerably  ruffled.  He  followed  Prue 
to  the  ball-room,  but  his  invitation  to  dance  was 
coldly  declined  and  he  retreated  to  the  card-room 
where  Sir  Geoffrey  was  already  seated  and  hailed 
his  coming  with  fierce  joy.  It  would  be  strange, 
indeed,  he  argued,  if  means  could  not  be  found  to 
fasten  a  quarrel  upon  a  man  who  came  to  the  card- 
table  with  a  naturally  morose  temper  heated  with 
wine  and  still  further  excited  by  the  bitter-sweet 
arts  of  a  coquette. 

That  Beachcombe  was  still  infatuated  with  his 
old  love,  Sir  Geoffrey  had  not  the  slightest  doubt, 
and  that  he  had  persuaded  her  to  jilt  him  he  had, 
as  he  firmly  believed,  the  evidence  of  his  own 
senses. 

The  play  was  high,  and  Sir  Geoffrey's  luck  had 
taken  another  turn.  The  pile  of  guineas  in  front 
of  him  grew  apace  and  gradually  the  others  dropped 
out,  except  Beachcombe,  who  had  also  been  win- 
ning, though  not  so  largely.  His  luck  soon  gave 
way  before  Sir  Geoffrey's,  and  in  a  short  time  he 
had  lost  all  his  winnings  and  a  considerable  sum 
besides.  Seeing  him  hesitate  and  half  rise  from 
the  table,  his  opponent  laughingly  exclaimed, 
"  Don't  leave  me,  Beachcombe ;  I'm  in  the  vein  to- 
night—" 

"  Unlucky  in  love,  lucky  at  cards,"  sneered 
Beachcombe.  "  I  see  the  widow  has  jilted  you." 

"  That's  a  lie  and  you  know  it !  "  cried  Sir  Geof- 
frey. Both  the  men  started  to  their  feet  and  stood 
glaring  at  each  other  across  the  table.  Most  of 


176       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

the  other  games  were  suspended,  and  a  breathless 
hush  fell  upon  the  whole  assembly. 

"Is  that  intended  for  an  insult?"  said  Beach- 
combe  thickly.  A  laugh  or  two  expressed  the 
opinion  of  the  onlookers  as  to  the  propriety  of  such 
a  question. 

"  You  can  take  it  any  way  you  please,"  retorted 
Sir  Geoffrey.  "  What  I  have  said  I  am  ready  to 
repeat,  if  you  require  it,  and  uphold  in  any  way 
you  demand." 

A  gray-haired  man  in  general's  uniform  came 
forward  and  laid  a  hand  on  the  arm  of  each. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  the  duchess  will  be 
much  offended,  if  this  should  go  further  under  her 
roof,  on  such  an  occasion  as  this.  If  you  wish  to 
continue  this  discussion,  my  quarters,  near  by,  are 
at  your  disposal  after  the  ball.  Until  then,  pray 
let  us  avoid  any  unpleasantness." 

Beachcombe  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  off 
to  the  other  end  of  the  room.  Sir  Geoffrey  ac- 
cepted the  old  general's  invitation,  and  pocketing 
his  winnings,  repaired  to  the  ball-room,  his  temper 
and  spirits  vastly  improved. 

There  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  find  Prue  in 
a  gracious  mood,  and  willing  to  make  up  for  her 
previous  neglect  by  dancing  with  him  and  allowing 
him  to  linger  at  her  side  until  the  ball  came  to  an 
end.  Then  he  had  the  felicity  of  shawling  her  and 
handing  her  into  her  carriage,  where  she  bade  him 
good  morrow  and  permitted  him  to  press  a  kiss 
upon  Robin's  pearl-embroidered  gloves. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
LADY  BARBARA'S  NEWS 

THE  sun  was  flushing  the  horizon  when  Prue 
and  Peggie  left  off  comparing  notes  about 
the  ball  and  laid  their  weary  heads  on  their  respec- 
tive pillows.     Peggie,  light  of  heart  and  easy  of 
conscience,  was  very  soon  asleep,  but  Prue  was  less 
fortunate.     The  more  tightly  she  closed  her  eyes, 
the  more  distinctly  she  saw  everything  that  had 
happened  to  her  since  yester  morning's   sun  had 
looked  coldly  upon  her  grief  and  remorse.     Could 
it  be  only  yesterday  that  she  had  been  awakened 
by  the  hideous  thought  that  her  husband  was  expi- 
ating his  crimes  upon  the  gallows  ?     Only  yesterday 
that  she  had  bemoaned  herself  as  the  wickedest  and 
crudest  of  women,  while  she  believed  him  dead; 
yet  was  ready  to  reproach  him  with  perfidy  when' 
she  saw  him  alive?     Oh!  it  was  impossible  that 
only  yesterday  morning  she  had  scorned  herself  for 
the  folly  that  bound  her  to  a  malefactor.     Why, 
last  night  she  had  treated  him  as  an  equal,  had 
taken  his  word  as  a  gentleman,  had  felt  and  ac- 
knowledged anxiety  for  his  safety,  and  had  permit- 
ted him  to  kiss  her  hands;  not  out  of  pity  as  when 
she  married  him,  but  just  as  if  he  had  been  of  the 
same  social  flesh-and -blood  as  herself.     She  vainly 
reminded  herself  that  this  Robin  was  the  same  who 

177 


178       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

had  waylaid  her  on  Bleakmoor;  the  same  who  had 
lain  in  Newgate  Prison,  a  felon  condemned  to  the 
gallows;  the  same  she  had  married  because  he  was 
doomed  to  death,  and  for  no  other  reason;  oh! 
more  the  shame  to  her!  As  to  him,  his  part  in 
that  ignoble  contract  was  blameless  and  even  gen- 
erous. With  which  thought  last  in  her  mind,  she 
fell  asleep. 

When  she  opened  her  eyes,  Peggie  stood  at  her 
bedside,  smiling  over  an  armful  of  roses. 

"  Guess  what  little  bird  sent  these  to  you,"  she 
said. 

Prue  started  up  eagerly.  "  Is  he  here  ? " 
Peggie  shook  her  head.  "  What,  did  he  go  away 
without  seeing  me  ?  "  cried  Prue,  her  face  falling 
and  her  lip  drooping  like  a  grieved  child. 

"  No,  he  sent  them  by  his  lackey.  You  had  bet- 
ter make  haste  to  be  up  and  dressed,  in  case  he 
comes  to  be  thanked." 

Prue  jumped  out  of  bed  and  began  dressing  in  a 
great  hurry. 

"How  comes  he  with  a  lackey,  forsooth!"  she 
said  presently,  feigning  to  cavil  so  that  Peggie 
would  go  on  talking. 

"  Why,  does  not  Sir  Geoffrey  always  send  his 
lackey  with  flowers  for  you  —  and  grandmother  ?  " 
laughed  Peggie. 

"  Sir  Geoffrey !  "  cried  Prue,  starting  away  from 
the  roses  as  though  she  had  suddenly  encountered 
their  thorns. 

"  Of  course ;  who  did  you  think  had  sent  them  ?  " 
inquired  Peggie  blandly. 


LADY  BARBARA'S  NEWS  179 

"  Why  —  I  thought  —  you  said  —  Oh !  Peggie, 
what  did  you  mean  by  a  little  bird  ?  "  pouted  Prue. 

"  Ha !  ha !  ha !  "  Peggie  screamed  with  laughter. 
"  So  the  only  bird  you  can  think  of  now  is  a  Robin ! 
Why,  Prue,  you  foolish  coz,  what  is  the  use  of  setting 
your  heart  on  him?  You  know  you  can  not  have 
him." 

"  And  suppose  I  can  not ;  is  not  that  enough  to 
make  any  woman  set  her  heart  on  a  man?  "  cried 
Prue.  "  Take  those  nasty  things  out  of  the  room, 
Peggy;  the  smell  of  them  makes  me  quite  sick." 

Peggie  started  to  go,  sniffing  them  voluptuously. 
"Poor  Robin!"  she  murmured;  "'tis  well  he  can 
not  see  how  his  roses  are  treated.  Nasty  things, 
indeed!  I  never  knew  the  smell  of  roses  to  make 
you  sick  before." 

Prue  flew  after  her.  "  Margaret ! "  she  ex- 
claimed, with  flashing  eyes.  "  How  dare  you  tor- 
ment me  like  this?  Tell  me,  this  instant,  who  sent 
those  flowers  to  me?  " 

"  Why,  didn't  I  tell  you  they  came  from  Robin?  " 
asked  Peggie,  regarding  her  with  guileless  surprise. 

"  Give  them  to  me  this  instant !  Oh,  Peggie, 
Peggie,  you  know  you  tried  to  make  me  think  Sir 
Geoffrey  sent  them — " 

"  I  only  said  he  always  sent  flowers  by  his 
lackey,"  Peggie  interposed. 

"  Was  there  nothing  with  them  ?  Not  a  letter, 
not  a  message?  "  Prue  went  on.  "  Oh,  Peggie,  just 
a  word  —  ?  " 

"  Not  a  word.  But  the  day  is  not  over  yet,  and 
mayhap  Captain  Scatterbrain  will  bring  his  own 


message.  He  is  mad  enough  for  anything.  Now 
don't  keep  smelling  those  '  nasty  things  ' —  you 
know  the  smell  of  roses  makes  you  sick  to-day  — 
and  made  haste  down-stairs.  Grandmother  is  feel- 
ing almost  well  to-day  and  will  take  her  chocolate 
in  the  drawing-room.  She  wishes  you  to  join  her 
anon,  so  that  she  can  hear  from  your  own  lips  all 
about  your  triumphs  last  night." 

When  Prue  came  down  presently,  she  wore  a 
great  cluster  of  red  roses  at  her  breast,  and  one  or 
two  nestled  in  the  rich  braids  of  her  hair.  It  was 
a  pity  Robin  could  not  see  how  well  they  became 
her,  but  they  were  not  altogether  wasted,  as  Sir 
Geoffrey,  coming  in  a  short  time  later,  made  them 
the  occasion  of  some  charming  compliments. 

Old  Lady  Drumloch,  with  no  sign  of  weakness 
about  her  but  her  delicate  waxen  pallor,  reclined  on 
a  couch  enveloped  in  her  cashmeres,  sipping  choco- 
late, and  listening  with  great  complacency  to  her 
granddaughter's  account  of  the  masquerade.  She 
greeted  Sir  Geoffrey  without  enthusiasm,  accepted 
his  congratulations  upon  her  recovery  with  resigna- 
tion, and  remorselessly  turned  him  over  to  Peggie 
for  entertainment,  while  she  kept  Prue  in  close 
attendance  upon  herself. 

Other  guests  dropping  in,  Prue  was  kept  so 
busy  dispensing  chocolate  and  sweetmeats  that  she 
hardly  noticed  the  portentous  gravity  with  which 
Sir  Geoffrey  drew  Peggie  apart  and  engaged  her 
in  a  low-voiced  conversation,  which  at  first  amused, 
then  surprised,  and  finally  caused  her  to  exhibit 
unmistakable  signs  of  uneasiness.  Her  efforts  to 


LADY  BARBARA'S  NEWS  181 

catch  Prue's  eye  being  abortive,  she  was  on  her 
way  across  the  room,  when  the  door  was  thrown 
open,  and  with  a  great  rustling  of  silks  and  clatter- 
ing of  fans,  three  ladies  were  announced.  "  Lady 
Limerick,  Miss  Warburton  and  Lady  Barbara 
Sweeting." 

Of  the  new-comers,  the  latter  deserves  a  word  of 
introduction,  for  Lady  Barbara  had  been  the  sharer, 
and  many  thought,  the  instigator  of  half  the  frolics 
of  Prue's  lively  widowhood.  They  were  fast 
friends,  and  if  the  fading  charms  of  Lady  Barbara 
suffered  by  contrast  with  Prue's  fresh  loveliness, 
those  who  desired  the  friendship  of  either  were  usu- 
ally wise  enough  to  treat  both  with  impartial  gal- 
lantry. 

A  great  favorite  of  Queen  Anne  and  also  a  dan- 
gerous rival  of  Sarah  Churchill,  Lady  Barbara 
owed  her  popularity  chiefly  to  her  skill  in  collecting 
and  disseminating  scandal.  She  knew  everything 
long  before  any  one  else  suspected  it.  Projected 
marriages,  family  jars,  political  intrigues  supplied 
her  with  an  ever- fresh  stock  of  amusing  anecdote. 
Mischievous  but  rarely  malicious,  she  often  pricked, 
but  seldom  stabbed,  and  was  as  ready  to  turn  the 
laugh  against  herself  as  to  make  fun  out  of  her 
most  cherished  enemy. 

"  Dear  Lady  Drumloch,  what  a  delightful  sur- 
prise, and  how  charming  you  look !  "  she  cried,  tak- 
ing the  old  lady's  delicate  hand  in  hers  and  pressing 
upon  it  as  reverential  a  kiss  as  though  it  had  been 
Queen  Anne's  own  chubby  fingers.  "  You  don't 
know  how  enchanted  we  are  to  have  you  among 


182       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

us  again!  We  have  missed  you  so.  Prue,  you 
wicked  witch,  how  dare  you  look  so  lovely?  After 
last  night  you  ought  to  be  pale  and  languishing, 
instead  of  looking  so  shamelessly  unconcerned 
and  lighthearted."  Prue,  without  knowing  why, 
changed  countenance  a  little,  at  which  her  tor- 
mentor ran  on  still  more  volubly.  "  We  were  get- 
ting on  very  nicely  without  you  —  a  little  dull, 
perhaps,  but  one  can  live  without  duels,  and  while 
you  stayed  in  the  North,  wives  could  let  their  hus- 
bands run  alone,  even  if  they  had  been  your  bond- 
slaves. Prithee,  was  ever  General  Sweeting  the 
victim  of  your  enchantments?  If  so,  alack,  what 
is  to  become  of  me?  " 

A  laugh  rippled  round  the  room,  for  Lady  Bar- 
bara's husband  was  notoriously  henpecked,  and  al- 
though he  had  once  been  a  redoubtable  warrior  and 
a  still  more  formidable  rake,  it  was  in  the  days  when 
Prue's  mother  had  not  emerged  from  the  nursery 
and  Prue's  self  was  an  unpropounded  problem  of 
the  distant  future. 

Not  at  all  disturbed  by  the  amusement  of  her 
audience,  Lady  Barbara  raised  her  quizzing-glass 
and  ran  her  bright,  sharp  glance  round  the  room. 

"  What !  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert !  how  come 
you  here?  Why  are  you  not  flying  for  safety  to 
your  Yorkshire  Castle?  Or  perhaps  your  parlia- 
mentary immunities  extend  to  the  slaughter  of  the 
innocents  as  well  as  the  spoiling  of  the  Egyptians !  " 

Sir  Geoffrey,  very  red  in  the  face,  came  forward, 
bowing  low.  "  Dear  Lady  Barbara,  as  you  are 
strong,  be  merciful,"  he  murmured  imploringly. 


LADY  BARBARA'S  NEWS  183 

She  gave  him  a  look  very  unlike  her  ordinary 
merry  defiance.  "  Merciful  to  you,  who  have  no 
mercy  even  for  the  nursing  mother  and  the  suckling 
babe?  Never!  Lady  Beachcombe  is  one  of  my 
ninety-and-nine  dearest  friends.  I  have  just  come 
from  her.  There  was  a  sight  to  wring  the  heart 
of  a  monster!  the  weeping  mother  in  one  room 
and  the  wounded  husband  and  father  — " 

"  Oh,  tush !  "  interrupted  Sir  Geoffrey,  recover- 
ing his  aplomb.  "  'Twas  the  merest  scratch.  A 
strip  torn  from  my  lady's  kerchief  would  have 
bound  it  up  and  left  something  to  spare  — " 

"  Don't  quarrel,  you  two,"  interposed  Prue's 
sweet,  cooing  voice.  "  Bab,  come  and  sit  beside 
granny  and  I'll  give  you  a  cup  of  chocolate,  while 
you  tell  her  the  latest  news." 

"  The  latest  news !  There  is  so  much,  that  the 
difficulty  is  to  know  where  to  begin.  I  went,  this 
morning,  to  visit  my  interesting  friend,  Lady  Beach- 
combe,  and  according  to  promise,  to  give  her  full 
description  of  the  ball,  including  " —  here  she  shook 
her  finger  at  Prue  — "  all  the  doings  and  misdoings 
of  her  lord.  I  was  prepared  to  be  cautious  with  the 
dear  creature,  but  instead  of  rinding  myself  wel- 
comed as  a  bearer  of  news,  I  heard  so  much  that  my 
poor  head  fairly  swims  with  trying  to  remember  it 
all." 

"  Begin  with  the  least  exciting  and  work  up  by 
easy  stages  to  a  climax,"  suggested  Peggie,  edging 
toward  her  cousin  and  trying  to  attract  her 
attention. 

"  No,   begin  with   the  most  thrilling  while  our 


1 84       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

nerves  are  strong  enough  to  bear  it,"  Prue  proposed 
eagerly. 

"  First,  then,"  Lady  Barbara  began,  highly  en- 
joying her  anticipated  triumph,  "  there  was  a  rob- 
bery at  Marlborough  House  last  night ;  and  sure  no 
common  thief  would  venture  to  steal  Her  Majesty's 
diamond  necklace  from  the  royal  tiring-room." 

The  general  chorus  of  incredulity  and  indigna- 
tion realized  her  expectations  and  she  looked  around 
with  a  mysterious  smile.  "  No  common  thief,  in- 
deed; but  Robin  Freemantle,  the  highwayman,  is 
out  of  jail,  and  'tis  said  —  indeed  my  authority  can 
not  be  questioned  —  that  he  was  among  the 
maskers." 

Prue  felt  cold  shivers  trickling  down  her  spine, 
but  the  consciousness  that  Sir  Geoffrey  was  watch- 
ing her,  gave  her  strength  to  fix  a  smile  upon  her 
face  and  pour  out  the  cup  of  chocolate  with  a  steady 
hand. 

"  Why  do  tfiey  think  he  had  anything  to  do  with 
this  ?  "  some  one  inquired.  "  Tell  us  everything 
quickly,  Barbara,  before  we  die  of  curiosity." 

"  Why,  now  we  come  to  the  best  story  of  all," 
cried  the  fair  newsmonger.  "  On  his  way  to  the 
ball,  Lord  Beachcombe  was  waylaid  by  Robin  Free- 
mantle  and  a  band  of  ruffians,  who  carried  him  off 
—  carriage,  servants  and  all  complete  —  to  a  secret 
cavern  and  left  him  there  for  several  hours,  having 
robbed  him  of  his  mask  and  domino  and  borrowed 
his  invitation  and  his  carriage !  " 

"  The  devil ! "  ejaculated  Sir  Geoffrey,  suddenly 
very  much  enlightened. 


LADY  BARBARA'S  NEWS  185 

"  Fie,  Sir  Geoffrey ;  you  should  leave  such  re- 
marks to  our  poor  friend  Beachcombe,  when  he 
discovered,  this  morning,  the  purpose  for  which  his 
disguise  had  been  taken." 

"  But  he  was  there ;  I  spoke  with  him,"  said  Prue, 
feeling  the  color  ebb  from  her  cheeks  and  surrep- 
titiously trying  to  pinch  some  of  it  back. 

"  Did  I  not  see  you  supping  with  him?  "  retorted 
Lady  Barbara  archly.  "  I  refrained  from  dwelling 
upon  that  subject  to  my  poor  friend,  Lady  Beach- 
combe,  but  I  saw  what  I  saw!  Before  midnight 
his  property  was  restored  and  he  was  set  free.  He 
hastened  to  the  ball,  and  doubtless  he  would  have 
done  much  better  to  go  straight  home,  eh,  Sir 
Geoffrey?" 

"  He  seemed  in  a  bad  humor,"  said  Prue  re- 
flectively, "  but  not  more  so  than  usual." 

"  He  might  well  be  in  a  bad  humor.  It  appears 
that  he  was  instrumental  in  getting  Robin  Free- 
mantle  pardoned  when  he  was  in  Newgate,  con- 
demned to  be  hanged." 

"  That  is  strange !  "  Peggie  exclaimed.  "  'Tis  the 
first  time  I  ever  heard  tell  of  a  charitable  act  of 
his!" 

"  'Twill  be  the  last,  no  doubt ;  the  man  is  an 
ingrate.  His  first  use  of  his  liberty  was  to  steal 
his  benefactor's  mask  and  domino,  and  under  cover 
of  them  to  rob  the  queen's  Majesty.  Oh!  'tis  out- 
rageous !  "  Lady  Barbara  ran  on  volubly.  "  But  he 
will  be  punished;  and  speedily."  She  became  mys- 
terious. "  His  retreat  is  known.  When  Beach- 
combe  questioned  his  servants  and  added  his  own 


i86       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

suspicions  to  theirs,  he  came  upon  important  clues, 
and  when  I  left  he  was  going  to  place  them  in  the 
hands  of  the  authorities,  from  whom  this  miscreant 
will  certainly  not  be  rescued  a  second  time  —  by 
him!" 

"  Or  by  any  one  else,  it  is  devoutly  to  be  hoped," 
remarked  Sir  Geoffrey ;  "  don't  you  agree  with  me, 
Lady  Prudence?  " 

"  You  played  thief-taker  before,  Sir  Geoffrey," 
she  retorted,  with  unaccustomed  acrimony.  "  You 
should  offer  your  services  again;  his  escape  would 
then  be  impossible." 

"  Quite  impossible ! "  cried  Lady  Barbara,  who 
only  caught  the  last  words.  "  His  home  will  be 
surrounded  by  soldiers,  and  he  will  be  lodged  in 
the  Tower,  when  they  catch  him." 

"  Do  they  send  soldiers  to  catch  a  highwayman  ?  " 
inquired  Peggie. 

"And  why  the  Tower?"  objected  Lady  Drum- 
loch.  "  Methought  that  was  reserved  for  gentle- 
men ;  'tis  too  much  honor  for  robbers  and  footpads. 
Will  they  also  behead  this  person;  like  a  gentle- 
man?" 

"  'Tis  likely,"  cried  Barbara.  "  I  had  so  much 
to  tell  you,  that  I  forgot  that  this  Robin  is  not  a 
mere  ordinary  highwayman;  he  is  a  Jacobite  plot- 
ter, no  less,  and  is  known  to  carry  letters  and  mes- 
sages from  rebels  in  the  South  to  those  in  the  North 
and  back  again  —  doing,  I  presume,  a  little  highway 
robbery  on  the  way,  for  the  good  of  the  cause. 
Mayhap  he  appropriated  the  queen's  necklace  as  a 
contribution  to  the  treasury  of  the  '  King  in  Exile.' ' 


LADY  BARBARA'S  NEWS  187 

"  Barbara ! "  exclaimed  Prue  and  Peggie  to- 
gether, in  a  panic. 

"  My  dear  Lady  Barbara,"  put  in  the  thin,  incisive 
voice  of  Lady  Drumloch,  "  the  '  King  in  Exile '  is 
the  queen's  brother  and  probably  —  may  the  day 
be  distant  —  will  succeed  her.  I  can  not  permit  such 
insinuations  to  be  made  in  my  presence,  against  the 
cause  for  which  my  husband  and  my  son  laid  down 
their  lives." 

"  Pray  pardon  me,  dearest  Lady  Drumloch," 
cried  Lady  Barbara,  really  shocked  at  her  own  want 
of  tact.  "  I  meant  no  harm — my  tongue  runs  away 
with  me  —  and  to  be  sure,  I  have  no  greater  fancy 
for  a  Dutchman  on  the  throne  than  any  other  loyal 
Englishwoman.  Yet  'tis  true  that  Robin  Free- 
mantle  is  only  the  nom  de  guerre  of  one  of  the  most 
turbulent  rebels  against  the  queen's  government  — " 

"If  by  that  you  mean  the  Whigs,  you  should 
rather  say  against  the  Duchess  of  Marlborough's 
government,"  retorted  Lady  Drumloch  crisply. 

"And  what  is  the  real  name  of  this  —  rebel?" 
inquired  Prue. 

"  Why,  he  calls  himself  De  Cliffe,  and  if  he  really 
is  an  offshoot  of  the  family,  that  would  explain  why 
Beachcombe  obtained  a  pardon  for  him,"  said  Lady 
Barbara. 

"  Indeed,  it  requires  explaining,"  remarked  Prue, 
who  had  quite  regained  her  self-command.  "  It  is 
much  easier  to  understand  why  he  is  sending  him  to 
the  Tower,  if  he  be  a  poor  relation." 

During  the  laughter  that  followed  this  sally, 
other  guests  arrived  and  the  loss  of  the  queen's 


1 88       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

diamond  necklace  having,  by  this  time,  become 
pretty  generally  known,  poor  Prue  had  to  listen 
to  every  variation  of  the  story  and  every  kind  of 
theory  concerning  it,  all  leading  to  the  same  con- 
clusion, that  Robin  the  highwayman  had  been  at 
the  masquerade  ball  and  profiting  by  opportunity  — 
the  Ruling  Planet  of  adventurers  —  had  carried  off 
a  prize  of  incalculable  value. 

With  difficulty  she  eluded  Sir  Geoffrey's  ironical 
condolences,  and  took  her  accustomed  part  in  the 
heedless  chatter,  watching  the  clock  as  minute  by 
minute  slipped  away  and  still  her  visitors  lingered. 

"Oh!  if  they  would  only  go,"  she  whispered  to 
Peggie.  "  Do  you  think  if  I  were  to  fall  in  a  fit, 
or  make  James  give  an  alarm  of  fire,  that  it  would 
speed  the  parting  guest?  " 

But  the  longest  afternoon  comes  to  an  end  some 
time,  and  Lady  Drumloch's  weary  looks  presently 
reminded  her  guests  that  she  was  but  recently  off 
her  sick-bed.  So  with  a  great  rustling  of  silks  and 
sweeping  of  voluminous  curtseys,  they  withdrew, 
with  as  many  farewell  speeches  as  though  they  did 
not  expect  to  meet  again  in  a  few  hours  at  dinner, 
rout  or  playhouse,  and  left  the  old  countess  to  be 
carried  up-stairs,  and  the  two  girls  to  their  own  de- 
vices. 

When  they  were  alone,  Peggie  threw  her  arms 
round  her  cousin.  "  Oh !  my  poor  Prue,"  she  cried ; 
"  what  I  have  suffered  for  you  the  last  hour  — " 

"  Tell  me  of  your  sufferings  by  and  by,  Peggie," 
said  Prue,  rather  ungratefully.  "  If  you  would 


LADY  BARBARA'S  NEWS  189 

help  me,  bid  James  fetch  a  chair,  while  I  get  me  a 
cloak ;  I  must  hasten  to  the  duchess." 

"  The  duchess !  Oh,  Prue,  dearest,  don't  do 
anything  rash ;  for  Heaven's  sake,  try  to  be  discreet. 
If  you  can  not  help  Robin,  do  not  ruin  yourself  for 
the  sake  of  a  thief!  " 

"  You  are  quite  mistaken,  Margaret ;  every  one  is 
determined  that  Robin  has  taken  the  necklace,  and 
if  I  did  not  know  him  better  than  you  do,  I  might 
think  the  same.  But  trust  me;  for  once  I  will  be 
the  personification  of  prudence,  and  you  will  see 
that  everything  will  come  right.  If  any  one  should 
ask  you  where  I  am,  say  I  have  gone  to  offer  my 
services  and  sympathies  to  the  duchess.  Sure,  'tis 
a  terrible  blow  for  her,  and  there  are  those  about 
the  queen  who  would  rejoice  if  it  were  mortal. 
No  one  will  wonder  that  I  should  wish  at  such  a 
time  to  prove  my  friendship  for  one  who  has  so 
often  stood  by  me." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  DEN   OF  THE   HIGHWAYMAN 

PRUE  allowed  James  to  direct  the  chairmen 
to  Marlborough  House,  but,  a  short  distance 
away,  she  stopped  them,  and  giving  them  a  crown, 
desired  them  to  carry  her  with  the  utmost  speed 
to  Essex  Street,  where  she  would  reward  them 
amply  for  their  diligence.  Scenting  an  intrigue, 
with  the  usual  accompaniment  of  a  generous  dou- 
ceur for  their  share  in  it,  they  trotted  off  at  a 
pace  that  gave  their  light  burden  hard  work  to  keep 
her  seat. 

With  all  their  haste,  it  was  dark  before  they 
reached  Essex  Street,  where  Prue  desired  them 
to  seek  out  "  Pip's  Coffee-House,"  a  small  hostelry 
of  retiring,  not  to  say  furtive  aspect.  A  flickering 
oil-lamp  hung  over  the  entrance,  and  through  the 
red-baize  window-curtain  a  dull  glimmer  penetrated. 

Excited  as  she  was,  Prue  was  not  without  alarms 
at  the  sinister  possibilities  of  this  adventure,  so 
vastly  different  from  the  sparkling  follies  of  her 
giddy  career.  But  "  Cowards  fayle,"  and  Prue 
was  no  coward,  nor  was  she  capable  of  drawing 
back  when  curiosity  and  inclination  combined  to 
thrust  her  on.  She  descended,  and  bidding  the 
chairmen  wait,  boldly  entered  the  house  and 
knocked  at  the  first  door  she  came  to. 

190 


THE  DEN  OF  THE  HIGHWAYMAN     191 

A  voice  called  out,  "  Come  in,"  and  she  obeyed. 
The  room  was  of  moderate  size,  divided  into  small 
compartments,  each  containing  a  rough  wooden 
table  and  a  couple  of  benches  to  match.  The  floor 
was  sanded,  the  ceiling  low  and  smoke-blackened, 
but  there  was  no  appearance  of  squalor,  and  the 
few  occupants,  who  were  reading  the  News  sheet 
or  playing  dominoes,  looked  respectable  and  orderly 
enough. 

Reassured,  Prue  approached  the  man  in  charge 
of  the  little  curtained  bar,  and  in  a  timid  voice  in- 
quired for  "  Mr.  Steve  Larkyn." 

He  stared  at  her,  but  her  veil  effectually  hid  her 
face,  though  the  sweetness  of  her  voice  and  the  dis- 
tinction of  her  bearing  could  not  be  disguised. 

"  Steve  Larkyn?  I'll  call  him,  my  lady,"  said 
the  man. 

"I'm  no  lady,"  retorted  Prue  sharply.  "If  I 
were  I  should  not  be  asking  for  Steve  Larkyn ! " 

She  was  sorry  for  her  quickness  the  next  mo- 
ment, for  the  man  laughed  rather  rudely,  and  open- 
ing a  door  behind  him,  called  out,  "  Hullo,  Steve, 
here's  a  lady  asking  for  thee,  that  says  she  ain't  no 
lady." 

The  Steve  Larkyn  who  came  hurrying  out  was  so 
unlike  the  one  she  had  seen  in  disguise,  that  she  was 
about  to  repudiate  him,  when  with  a  sudden  grimace 
he  changed  himself  back  into  the  rustic  foot-boy,  all 
but  the  shock  of  tow-colored  hair,  which  no  longer 
covered  his  sleek  brown  head.  The  change  passed 
like  a  ripple  of  wind  over  a  smooth  pool,  but  it  re- 
assured Prue. 


192       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  Can  you  come  outside  a  minute  ?  "  she  said,  in 
a  very  low  voice ;  "  I  must  speak  with  you." 

He  followed  her  into  the  street,  and  once  out  of 
range  of  observant  eyes  and  ears,  she  grasped  him 
by  the  arm,  and  demanded  to  be  taken  instantly  to 
the  captain. 

"  I  can  take  a  message,"  said  Steve,  hesitating. 
"  It  will  attract  less  notice  than  a  -visit  from  a  lady." 

"  Waste  no  time  in  idle  objections,"  she  cried, 
almost  fiercely.  "  I  must  see  him ;  what  I  have  to 
say  is  for  his  ear  alone,  and  even  if  otherwise, 
'twould  be  a  waste  of  precious  time  to  tell  my  tale 
twice  over.  Lead  me  to  him  instantly  or  take  the 
responsibility  of  his  certain  death  upon  your  own 
head!" 

"  Come,  then,"  he  replied ;  "  but  you  must  come 
afoot.  "Pis  ill  enough  to  take  a  woman  into  a 
secret,  without  a  pair  of  spying  lackeys  to  boot. 
Can  you  walk  a  short  distance?  The  road  is  dark 
and  rough." 

"  No  matter,  I  can  walk  it."  She  paid  the  chair- 
men liberally,  and  dismissing  them,  followed  Steve 
down  a  steep  and  narrow  lane  leading  to  the  river- 
side. It  was  unlighted,  and  she  slipped  and  stum- 
bled on  the  miry,  uneven  causeway  until  Steve,  in 
pity,  begged  her  to  lean  upon  his  arm.  "  'Tis  not  far 
now,"  he  said,  less  gruffly,  and  a  few  yards  farther 
they  came  to  a  huge  and  gloomy  gateway,  within 
which  a  little  door  admitted  them  into  a  dark  hall. 

Steve  struck  a  light  and  led  the  way  across  the 
echoing  emptiness  and  up  a  broad  staircase.  He 
scratched  with  his  nail  upon  a  door,  which  was 


THE  DEN  OF  THE  HIGHWAYMAN     193 

promptly  opened  by  Robin  himself,  fully  equipped 
for  a  journey. 

"  Steve !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  What  has  happened, 
and  who  is  this  with  you?  " 

Before  he  could  answer,  Prue  stepped  forward 
and  throwing  off  her  veil  replied,  "  Your  wife!  " 

"  Lady  Prudence !  "  he  cried,  scarcely  believing  the 
evidence  of  his  senses.  "  In  the  name  of  Heaven, 
what  brings  you  here?  Why  are  you  so  pale  and 
excited?  Something  terrible  has  happened?  " 

"  No ;  but  will  happen  unless  you  instantly 
escape."  She  came  into  the  room  and  closed  the 
door,  leaving  Steve  outside.  "  Oh !  Robin,  Robin," 
she  cried,  clasping  her  hands  and  looking  at  him 
with  reproachful  eyes,  "  I  know  all  that  happened 
last  night  How  could  you  be  so  mad?  You  can 
not  hope  to  escape  again  if  you  are  arrested  for 
this." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Robin  grimly,  "  if  I  am  taken 
this  time,  'twill  be  worse  than  hanging!  But  I'll 
never  be  taken  alive  — " 

"  There  is  time  to  escape,"  she  urged.  "  Your 
retreat  is  known  and  you  will  be  arrested  to-night. 
Lord  Beachcombe  has  discovered  where  he  was 
brought  yester  night  — " 

"Ah!  "  said  Robin,  with  a  bitter  smile.  "I 
should  have  taken  extra  precautions  against  the 
bloodhound  instinct  of  hatred!  And  so,  Dear 
Heart,"  he  went  on,  in  a  very  different  tone,  "  you 
came  to  warn  me  of  danger  ?  'Twas  very  noble  of 
you,  for  if  you  had  left  me  to  my  fate,  in  a  few 
hours  you  might  have  been  a  free  woman." 


194       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

Prue  burst  into  tears.  "  Oh !  you  are  cruel, 
cruel,"  she  sobbed.  "  I  do  not  want  freedom  — 
that  way." 

"  I  believe  it,"  he  said,  taking  her  hand  and  press- 
ing it  to  his  lips.  "  Do  not  grieve,  my  hunted  life 
is  not  worth  one  of  those  tears  — " 

"  But  hasten,"  she  interrupted,  listening  atten- 
tively and  holding  up  her  hand  to  silence  him.  "  I 
know  who  you  are  and  that  you  are  concerned  in 
Jacobite  plots.  Soldiers  will  surround  the  house 
and  you  will  be  arrested  and  taken  to  the  Tower 
as  a  traitor.  You  have  very  little  time  to  escape  — " 

He  glanced  at  some  papers  on  the  table  and  be- 
gan to  gather  them  up  and  conceal  them  about  him. 
In  doing  this,  he  uncovered  a  jewel-case  of  purple 
velvet  embroidered  in  gold  with  the  royal  arms. 

Prue  uttered  a  faint  shriek  and  covered  her 
eyes,  as  if  to  shut  out  the  sight  that  confirmed  her 
worst  fears. 

"  Oh !  Robin !  "  she  gasped.  "  The  queen's  neck- 
lace— !" 

"  Was  it  the  queen's  ? "  he  replied  carelessly. 
"  Well,  now  it  is  yours,  if  you  care  to  have  it." 
He  opened  the  case  and  displayed  the  diamonds 
flashing  like  a  string  of  fire.  "  My  faith !  the  gems 
are  gorgeous;  they  will  look  well  on  the  peerless 
neck  of  my  beautiful  Prue." 

"I  wear  the  queen's  diamonds!  You  must  be 
mad!  What  possessed  you  to  take  them?  Oh,  I 
hoped  so  that  it  was  a  mistake  and  that  you  were 
innocent  of  this." 

"  Innocent  of  what?     Do  you  really  think  I  stole 


195 

the  necklace?  My  dear  Lady  Prudence,  I  am  a 
highwayman  when  occasion  serves,  but  I  am  not  a 
thief.  Last  night,  on  the  king's  business,  I  waylaid 
the  wrong  man,  and  all  I  got  for  my  pains  was  this 
fine  casket,  which  I  never  opened  until  now.  Evi- 
dently I  robbed  the  thief,  confound  him!  and  the 
papers  I  was  commanded  to  secure  are  God  knows 
where !  " 

"  Oh!  Robin,  I  am  so  glad!  "  she  cried.  "  They 
said  Robin  the  highwayman  was  at  his  tricks  again, 
and  had  stolen  the  queen's  necklace  from  Marl- 
borough  House,  and  oh,  I  was  so  ashamed  to  think 
such  a  thing  could  be  said  of  —  my  husband! " 

She  half  turned  away,  murmuring  the  last  words 
so  softly  that  only  the  ears  of  love  could  have 
caught  them. 

"  Oh !  Prue  —  angel  —  is  it  really  possible  that 
you  think  of  me  as  your  husband?  Oh!  I  know 
there  has  been  an  empty  ceremony  which  meant 
nothing  to  you,  and  to  me  only  vain  longing 
and  a  mad  dream  of  unattainable  happiness;  but 
what  a  fool  I  am!  Of  course  I  ought  to  have 
understood  that  you.  fear  to  be  brought  to  shame  if 
it  should  be  suspected  that  the  thief  of  the  queen's 
necklace  is  your  — " 

Prue's  eyes  flashed  and  her  little  high-heeled  shoe 
tapped  angrily  on  the  floor. 

"You  are  indeed  a  fool!"  she  exclaimed.  "I 
do  not  know  why  I  have  any  patience  at  all  with 
you.  Will  you  begone  from  here  at  once,  sir,  and 
not  offend  me  by  tarrying  when  I  have  risked  so 
much  to  save  your  life?  " 


196       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

He  started  and  flushed  guiltily.  "  Selfish  brute 
that  I  am !  I  forgot  the  danger  to  you.  A  thousand 
thanks,  dear  Lady  Prudence,  for  your  warning.  I 
will  profit  by  it  when  I  have  conducted  you  to 
safety." 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  she  retorted 
imperiously.  "  When  I  arrived  you  were  preparing 
to  depart;  do  so  at  once,  for  if  you  wait  for  the 
house  to  be  surrounded  by  the  soldiers  it  will  be 
too  late.  Even  now,  if  you  leave  it  alive,  you  may 
fall  into  an  ambush.  Is  there  no  exit  except  into 
the  street  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  this  room  opens  on  a  terrace  overlooking 
the  river,  and  although  I  believed  myself  safe  in 
London  for  a  few  days,  I  have  a  boat  in  readiness 
in  case  I  should  be  forced  to  leave  in  a  hurry,"  said 
Robin.  "  There  are  hiding-places  in  South wark 
and  Lambeth  where  the  queen's  whole  army  might 
hunt  a  week  for  me  in  vain." 

"  Be  cautious  then,  for  that  may  be  known  to* 
your  enemies ;  and,  above  all,  be  speedy  — " 

While  she  was  speaking,  the  door  was  flung  open 
abruptly  and  Steve  Larkyn  —  his  face  blazing  with 
fury  —  darted  in. 

"You  are  betrayed,  Captain!"  he  ejaculated. 
"  This  woman  has  brought  the  soldiers  with  her. 
For  the  love  of  God,  do  not  stop  to  listen  to  her, 
but  escape  while  there  is  time  — " 

"  You  hear  ?  "  cried  Prue,  in  a  frenzy.  "  Go  — 
go  instantly !  I  command  you !  " 

"  What,  go  away  and  leave  you  here  to  meet  the 
soldiers  alone  ?  Never !  "  said  Robin,  with  a  calm- 


THE  DEN  OF  THE  HIGHWAYMAN     197 

ness  that  contrasted  strongly  with  the  excitement  of 
the  others. 

"  Then  I  will  remain  with  you,  and  when  the 
soldiers  come  I  will  declare  that  I  helped  you  enter 
Marlborough  House,  and  show  the  diamonds  to 
prove  that  I  was  your  accomplice;  nay,  I  will  say 
that  my  familiarity  with  the  duchess'  apartments 
gave  me  access  where  you  could  not  have  entered 
and  that  /  stole  the  diamonds  and  gave  them  to 
you!" 

"  You  will  do  this?  "  he  gasped,  utterly  stupefied. 

"  I  will;  and  if  necessary  I  will  proclaim  myself 
your  wife  and  let  them  think  I  have  had  my  share 
in  whatever  you  are  accused  of." 

"  But  why  ?  In  the  name  of  God,  what  is  the 
meaning  of  this  madness?" 

She  stretched  out  her  arms  to  him  with  a  gesture 
of  utter  self-abandonment.  "  It  means  that  I  love 
you,  Robin.  I  love  you,  and  would  rather  die  with 
you  than  live  without  you !  " 

He  caught  her  in  his  arms  and  strained  her  to  his 
breast  with  all  the  pent-up  passion  of  his  being  in 
that  fervid  embrace. 

"  Leave  you  —  now,  my  darling,  my  heart's 
heart—" 

She  tore  herself  from  his  arms.  "  More  than 
ever  now,"  she  pleaded.  "If  you  hope  ever  to 
possess  me,  fly,  and  I  swear  that  I  will  come  to 
you  —  if  not  on  earth,  in  Heaven.  Stay,  I  have 
an  idea."  She  snatched  up  a  sheet  of  paper  and 
thrust  a  pen  into  his  hand.  "  Write,"  she  com- 
manded, and  he  wrote  at  her  dictation. 


198       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  MISTRESS  BROOKE  : 

"  Follow  the  bearer  and  you  will  find  the  queen's 
diamond  necklace." 

"  There,"  she  exclaimed,  laughing  and  crying 
together,  "  leave  the  rest  to  me,  and  go  —  if  you  do 
not  wish  to  destroy  us  both.  Hark!  the  soldiers 
are  already  at  the  gate,"  she  flung  the  window  open 
— "  trust  to  my  woman's  wit,"  she  cried,  "  I  shall 
not  only  be  safe  but  covered  with  glory  and  honor." 

He  pressed  a  burning  kiss  upon  her  willing  lips 
and  sprang  through  the  window.  "  Follow  your 
master,"  she  said  to  Larkyn,  who  stood  by,  an 
effigy  of  astonishment.  He  obeyed  without  demur, 
and  she  shut  the  window,  closing  and  fastening  the 
shutter  and  half -drawing  the  faded  curtain. 

Then  she  resumed  her  mantle  and  veil  and  looked 
around  for  any  sign  of  Robin's  late  occupancy. 
He  had  secured  all  his  papers  and  on  the  table 
nothing  was  left  except  the  purple  velvet  case  and 
some  writing  materials,  which  she  thrust  into  a 
drawer.  In  doing  so  she  came  upon  a  packet  ad- 
dressed : 

"  To  Mistress  Larkyn, 

"  In  care  of  Mine  Hostess  of 
"  The  Fox  and  Grapes." 

She  took  it  up  and  recognized  Robin's  writing. 
The  angry  blood  glowed  in  her  veins.  "  The  in- 
solent varlet ! "  she  muttered.  "  He  has  been 
writing  to  a  woman  — '  Mistress  Larkyn,'  indeed ! 
—  Mine  Hostess  of  the  '  Fox  and  Grapes,'  for- 
sooth! 'Tis  some  low  intrigue,  and  I  thought  him 


THE  DEN  OF  THE  HIGHWAYMAN     199 

my  true  lover  and  loyal  husband.  I  will  see  how 
he  addresses  this  creature."  She  was  about  to 
tear  open  the  packet,  when  a  crash  below  stairs  and 
the  sound  of  hurried  footsteps  warned  her  that  the 
soldiers  had  broken  into  the  house.  She  hurriedly 
thrust  it  into  her  bosom  and  waited. 

A  voice  shouted  harshly,  "  In  the  queen's  name !  " 
and  the  door  was  opened  without  ceremony.  Half- 
a-dozen  soldiers  with  drawn  swords  rushed  in,  and 
at  sight  of  the  little  cloaked  figure,  came  to  a  halt  in 
some  confusion. 

But  Prue,  without  waiting  to  be  interrogated, 
threw  back  her  veil,  exclaiming,  "  Soldiers !  "  in  ac- 
cents of  well- feigned  joy  and  relief.  "  Oh !  I  am 
so  glad!  I  was  afraid,  when  I  heard  the  noise, 
that  I  had  fallen  into  a  den  of  robbers,  who  would, 
perhaps,  kill  me  for  the  sake  of  the  queen's  neck- 
lace." 

"  The  queen's  necklace ! "  exclaimed  the  officer 
in  command.  "  Who  are  you,  and  what  do  you 
know  about  the  queen's  necklace  ?  " 

"  I  am  the  Viscountess  Brooke,"  she  replied,  in 
her  loftiest  tone,  "  and  this  message  will  explain 
why  I  am  here,  and  what  I  know  about  the  queen's 
necklace." 

She  handed  the  paper  to  him  and  watched  anx- 
iously to  see  its  effect.  He  read  it  dubiously  and 
turned  it  over  and  over,  evidently  at  a  loss  how  to 
deal  with  a  matter  outside  of  his  instructions. 

"  You  see  the  necklace,"  she  went  on  after  a 
pause,  taking  up  the  emblazoned  casket  and  open- 
ing it.  "  The  person  who  brought  me  here  disap- 


200       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

peared  when  the  noise  began  at  the  gate."  She 
looked  round  in  every  direction  but  the  window. 
"  I  think  there  must  be  a  secret  panel  somewhere 
in  the  room,  for  while  my  attention  was  distracted 
by  the  noise,  she  disappeared." 

"  She! "  cried  the  officer.  "  Did  a  woman  bring 
you  here?  What  kind  of  person  was  it?  Could 
it  not  have  been  a  man,  disguised  ?  " 

"  A  man !  "  she  exclaimed ;  "  oh,  no  " —  then  the 
advantage  of  prolonging  this  cross-examination 
struck  her  and  she  continued  slowly,  as  if  ponder- 
ing over  the  suggestion  — "  at  least,  that  never  oc- 
curred to  me.  Her  voice  was  loud  and  rough  'tis 
true—" 

"  Was  she  —  or  he  —  tall  and  broad  ?  "  de- 
manded the  officer,  glancing  at  a  document  in  his 
hand  and  reading  from  it  — "  swarthy  complexion, 
black  eyes,  black  hair,  without  powder,  worn  — " 

She  interrupted  him  with  a  laugh.  "  Surely  not, 
the  woman  was  old,  bent,  no  taller  than  myself;  a 
toothless,  blear-eyed  beldame — " 

"And  she  disappeared,  you  say?  Sergeant,  ex- 
amine the  room  thoroughly  and  break  in  anything 
that  seems  like  a  secret  panel.  I  fear,  Madam," 
the  officer  said,  again  addressing  Prue,  "  that  I 
shall  be  compelled  to  arrest  you  if  we  can  not  find 
the  person  we  are  seeking." 

"  Arrest  me! "  cried  Prue.  "  Why,  you  will 
make  yourself  the  laughing-stock  of  London  if  you 
arrest  Lady  Prudence  Brooke.  As  to  myself,  I 
should  enjoy  it  amazingly;  I  have  never  been  ar- 
rested, and  it  would  be  something  quite  new  for 


THE  DEN  OF  THE  HIGHWAYMAN     201 

me  in  the  way  of  an  adventure,  but  I  have  found 
the  queen's  necklace  " —  she  clasped  it  in  her  arms 
with  an  air  of  defiance  — "  and  you  must  first  take 
me  either  to  Marlborough  House,  where  it  was  lost, 
or  to  Kensington  Palace,  where  you  will  easily  find 
out  whether  or  no  to  arrest  one  of  Her  Majesty's 
ladies-in-waiting. ' ' 

She  threw  off  her  veil  and  smiled  up  at  him  with 
all  the  alluring  archness  at  her  command.  It  was 
not  thrown  away,  although  the  young  soldier  made 
a  brave  effort  to  resist  her  captivating  arts,  by  order- 
ing his  men  to  leave  no  loophole  of  escape  for  the 
object  of  their  search  or  any  one  who  might  be  his 
accomplice.  They  roughly  tested  the  walls  with 
blows  and  kicks,  and  finding  at  last  a  hollow-sound- 
ing panel,  knocked  it  in  without  delay  and  found, 
not  a  secret  passage,  but  a  closet  containing  some 
weapons,  a  saddle  and  a  couple  of  cloaks.  These 
they  made  into  a  bundle  and  were  about  to  search 
farther,  when  the  sounds  of  shouts  and  shots  from 
the  river  drew  their  attention  that  way. 

"  By  Heaven,  they  have  caught  him  on  the 
river !  "  cried  the  officer,  hurrying  to  the  window. 
He  unclasped  the  shutter  and  dashing  the  window 
open,  sprang  out  on  the  terrace,  followed  by  Prue. 
The  night  was  intensely  dark  and  a  drizzling  rain 
falling,  but  at  a  short  distance  the  blaze  of  torches 
stained  the  fog  a  dull  crimson,  that  looked  to  her 
excited  imagination  like  a  haze  of  blood.  She 
stood  shivering  on  the  terrace  beside  the  officer,  as 
he  shouted  himself  hoarse  in  his  efforts  to  get  into 
communication  with  the  crew  of  the  boat  which  had 


202       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

intercepted  Robin's  flight,  but  the  lights  drifted  far- 
ther away  and  the  shouting  ceased,  and,  at  last,  she 
ventured  to  lay  her  hand  lightly  on  the  officer's 
arm. 

"  Who  is  being  pursued  ?  "  she  asked,  "  and  what 
is  all  the  disturbance  about  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  know  that  this  is  the  hiding-place 
of  the  notorious  highwayman,  Robin  Freemantle, 
who  is  also  suspected  of  being  an  active  agent  of 
the  Jacobite  plotters  in  Scotland?  It  is  strange 
that  you  should  be  alone  here,  Madam,  and  yet 
know  nothing  of  this  man's  escape!  My  orders 
are  to  arrest  him  and  all  persons  found  in  his  com- 
pany; therefore  you  must  consider  yourself  under 
arrest." 

"  Arrest  me  if  you  will,"  she  replied,  "  but  if 
you  refuse  to  take  me  to  the  Duchess  of  Marl- 
borough  or  the  queen,  the  consequences  be  on  your 
own  head.  Rest  assured  that  there  will  be  honors 
and  promotion  for  the  gallant  soldier  who  protects 
one  of  the  ladies  of  the  court  and  brings  her  and 
the  treasure  she  has  recovered  to  safety.  But  to 
thrust  one  of  my  condition " —  her  eyes  flashed 
and  she  raised  her  head  with  indignant  pride  — 
"  into  prison,  will  certainly  bring  disgrace  or  worse 
upon  you.  I  have  influence  with  the  duchess  and 
through  her,  with  the  duke." 

The  officer  was  young  and  not  altogether  insensi- 
ble either  to  the  sweet,  imperious  voice,  or  the 
arguments  it  propounded.  He  hesitated,  and  meet- 
ing the  earnest  eyes  raised  to  his,  began  to  waver. 
This  was  evidently  a  great  lady.  Her  elegant  dresc 


THE  DEN  OF  THE  HIGHWAYMAN     203 

and  haughty  manner  abashed  him,  and  he  began  to 
think  that  if  he  took  her  to  the  Tower  in  place  of 
Robin  Freemantle,  she  might  prove  a  dangerous 
substitute. 

"  Come,  come,  Sir  Officer,"  Prue  went  on,  read- 
ing the  changes  of  his  expression  with  an  ex- 
perienced eye,  "  do  not  be  so  hard  to  convince." 
She  smiled  up  at  him  now  with  a  bewitching  petu- 
lance and  laid  her  slender  hand  on  his  arm.  "  'Tis 
but  a  step  to  Marlborough  House  and  I  am  in  a 
fever  to  see  the  duchess.  I  was,  perhaps,  in- 
discreet in  coming  to  this  strange  place  alone,  but 
the  hope  of  finding  the  jewels  turned  my  foolish 
head  and  put  all  other  considerations  out  of  it.  I 
fear  I  ran  a  desperate  risk;  I  might  have  been 
attacked  by  robbers,  instead  of  rescued  by  soldiers! 
I  shall  never  forget  that  I  owe  my  safety,  perhaps 
my  life,  to  you !  " 

By  this  time  the  lieutenant  was  in  complete  sub- 
jection. "  I  am  most  fortunate,  Madam,  in  being 
of  some  service  to  you ! "  he  said  gallantly. 
"  When  I  came  here  to  take  a  prisoner,  I  little  ex- 
pected to  become  a  captive  myself." 

Prue  finished  him  off  with  a  glance  of  irre- 
sistible archness.  "Oh!  I  am  quite  reconciled  to 
my  arrest  now,"  she  protested.  "Indeed,  I  should 
claim  your  escort,  if  I  did  not  feel  sure  that  you 
would  wish  to  see  the  queen's  necklace  safely 
through  its  adventures.  Fortunate  man!  there  is 
not  an  officer  in  the  duke's  army,  who  would  not 
envy  your  good  luck." 

"  I  can  well  believe  it !  "  he  cried,  with  an  ardent 


204       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

glance.  "  I  would  not  change  places  with  a  gen- 
eral!" 

"  The  duchess  appreciates  devotion  as  much  as 
her  husband  does  courage,"  said  Prue,  with  tanta- 
lizing demureness. 

"  And  the  Lady  Prudence  Brooke  —  does  she  also 
appreciate  devotion?"  the  young  officer  murmured 
hurriedly.  "Oh!  if  I  could  believe  so — " 

"  You  would  take  me  to  Marlborough  House 
instead  of  the  Tower?"  she  interrupted  quickly. 
"Prove  your  devotion  by  doing  so,  and  after- 
ward " —  she  lingered  softly  on  the  word  — "  we 
will  talk  about  appreciation." 

The  soldiers,  by  this  time,  having  ransacked  the 
house  without  finding  anything  suspicious,  one  of 
them  was  despatched  to  fetch  a  chair  for  Lady 
Prudence,  and  leaving  a  guard  at  the  house  in  case 
of  Robin's  return,  the  lieutenant  and  the  rest  of 
his  soldiers  escorted  the  prisoner  —  and  the  neck- 
lace—  to  Marlborough  House. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

IN  THE  DUCHESS'  APARTMENTS 

ANY  doubts  that  Prue's  escort  might  have 
secretly  entertained  as  to  the  credibility  of 
her  strange  story,  were  set  at  rest  the  moment  she 
entered  the  doors  of  Marlborough  House.  Her  re- 
ception was  that  of  the  elect;  a  privileged  guest 
whom  all  delighted  to  honor.  The  obsequious 
flunkeys  bowed  before  her,  and  the  stately  Groom 
of  the  Chambers,  by  whose  command  the  lieutenant 
was  shown  into  a  waiting-room,  himself  carried  the 
Lady  Prue's  request  for  an  audience  of  the  duchess 
on  most  pressing  business. 

The  anterooms  were  thronged  with  visitors 
whose  curiosity  had  been  whetted  by  a  rumor  that 
the  long-expected  had  happened,  and  that  the  queen 
had  gladly  availed  herself  of  the  loss  of  her  jewels 
as  an  excuse  for  humiliating  the  tyrannical  favorite 
whose  exactions  had  lately  increased  in  proportion 
to  the  waning  of  her  influence.  It  was  whispered 
that  the  queen  had  been  most  reluctant  to  attend 
the  masquerade,  and  that  the  duchess,  fearing  that 
she  might  repeat  the  slight  of  a  recent  public  occa- 
sion (when  Her  Majesty  had  declined  to  appear  in 
regal  state  in  compliment  to  her),  had  exercised 
her  privilege  as  Mistress  of  the  Robes,  and  caused 

205 


206       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

certain  jewels  to  be  conveyed  to  the  royal  tiring- 
room  in  Marlborough  House.  But  the  queen,  on 
her  arrival,  had  signalized  her  disapproval  of  this 
audacious  proceeding,  by  refusing  to  make  any  al- 
teration in  the  conspicuously  simple  costume  she 
wore,  and  the  jewels  —  among  which  the  necklace 
was  the  most  important  —  were  left  in  the  tiring- 
room  in  care  of  the  attendants. 

All  this,  however,  was  mere  gossip.  Those  more 
friendly  to  the  duchess  discredited  the  whole  story 
and  claimed  to  know  that  no  royal  jewels  had  come 
into  the  house,  except  on  the  queen's  person,  and 
that  if  any  were  mislaid,  they  would  certainly  be 
found  either  at  Kensington  Palace,  where  Her 
Majesty  had  been  residing  for  some  weeks,  or  St. 
James',  where  she  had  passed  the  previous  day,  in 
order  to  incur  as  little  fatigue  as  possible  in  attend- 
ing the  masquerade. 

Ladies  Rialton  and  Monthemer,  with  other  mem- 
bers of  the  ducal  famfly  and  household,  flitted  from 
group  to  group,  making  light  of  the  rumored 
estrangement  between  "  poor,  unfortunate,  faithful 
Mrs.  Morley "  and  her  erstwhile  inseparable  and 
all-powerful  friend,  and  vowing  that  nothing  kept 
them  apart  but  the  violent  illness  of  the  duchess, 
over  whom  the  physicians  were  in  consultation  as 
to  the  propriety  of  bleeding  her  to  avert  an  attack 
of  fever.  But  all  hints  and  allusions  to  the  lost 
necklace  were  ignored,  and  those  who  were  hardy 
enough  to  put  their  inquiries  into  plain  words,  were 
met  with  diplomatic  replies  that  neither  affirmed 
nor  denied  anything. 


IN  THE  DUCHESS'  APARTMENTS     207 

With  a  greeting  here  and  a  hand-pressure  there, 
Prue  threaded  her  way  through  the  crowd  and 
hurried  up-stairs  to  the  duchess'  private  apart- 
ments. The  way  led  past  the  little  conservatory 
where  she  had  sat  with  Robin  last  night.  It  was 
dark  now  and  the  entrance  was  blocked  with  tubs 
containing  the  orange-trees  and  shrubs  which  had 
adorned  the  grand  stair-case  and  entrance-hall. 
Prue's  heart  beat  a  shade  faster  and  a  pang  of 
remorse  assailed  her  at  the  thought  that  by  intro- 
ducing Robin  to  this  sequestered  part  of  the  house 
she  had  exceeded  her  privilege  as  a  guest,  and  ex- 
posed both  Robin  and  herself  to  a  suspicion  that 
only  her  utmost  ingenuity  could  dissipate. 

In  the  duchess'  dressing-room  a  little  throng  of 
ladies-in-waiting  and  intimate  friends  welcomed  her 
warmly.  Deep  concern  sat  upon  every  face  as  they 
listened  to  the  hysterical  cries  and  moans,  in  which 
the  patient  in  the  adjoining  bedroom  gave  expres- 
sion to  her  sufferings,  and  the  broken  exclamations 
and  fierce  invectives  by  which  she  called  upon  her 
doctors  and  attendants  to  bear  witness  to  the  in- 
gratitude and  perfidy  of  the  queen,  and  the  baseness 
of  her  minions. 

While  Prue  hesitated  about  intruding,  the  doc- 
tor and  the  apothecary  came  out.  The  former  hur- 
ried away  with  a  red  face  and  air  of  offended 
dignity,  and  his  satellite  only  lingered  long  enough 
to  assure  the  ladies  that  her  grace,  having  refused 
to  be  blooded  and  having  ordered  the  two  rnedicos 
from  her  presence  under  pain  of  a  drenching  with 
their  own  potions,  nothing  could  be  done  for  her 


208       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

until  she  could  be  brought  into  a  more  reasonable 
mood. 

"  I  must  see  her  at  once,"  said  Prue,  with  decision. 
"  I  have  a  cure  for  her  malady  far  more  efficacious 
than  all  the  court  physicians'  nostrums." 

"  Why,  do  you  come  from  the  queen  ?  Has  she 
found  her  diamond  necklace?"  A  dozen  eager 
questioners  crowded  about  her,  but  with  a  smile  of 
mysterious  but  encouraging  significance,  Prue  reit- 
erated her  demand  and  at  last  escaped  from  further 
interrogation,  by  making  her  way  unannounced  into 
the  presence  of  the  duchess. 

The  great  lady  lay  upon  her  bed,  her  disordered 
dress  and  disheveled  hair  revealing  the  ravages  of 
time,  which  she  usually  disguised  with  so  much 
skill.  Her  tire-women  vainly  attempted  to  soothe 
her  by  chafing  her  feet  and  hands  and  fanning  her 
flushed  and  swollen  face. 

"  Who  is  that  ?  "  she  screamed,  catching  sight  of 
Prue.  "  Go  away  —  I  can  not  see  any  one  —  I 
am  very  ill  —  I  am  dying !  Make  haste  to  pay  your 
court  to  Masham  —  Masham !  the  creature  I  raised 
out  of  the  mire  —  the  kitchen-wench,  who  will 
queen  it  to-morrow  when  I  am  dead!  Oh!  oh! 
oh !  "  And  the  hysterics  were  resumed  with  wilder 
frenzy  than  ever. 

"  Leave  her  to  me,"  said  Prue  to  the  women. 
"  I  can  cure  her,  but  I  must  have  her  to  myself  for 
a  few  minutes."  They  looked  from  one  to  the 
other  with  bewildered  eyes,  wondering  at  Prue's 
audacity,  yet  unable  to  resist  her  calm  tone  of  au- 
thority. 


IN  THE  DUCHESS'  APARTMENTS     209 

When  they  had  withdrawn  to  the  farther  end  of 
the  room,  she  bent  over  the  shrieking,  raving  duch- 
ess, and  said,  in  a  quiet,  penetrating  voice,  "  The 
necklace  is  not  lost,  it  is  quite  safe." 

The  cries  ceased  with  almost  ludicrous  sudden- 
ness. "  What  do  you  say  ?  "  gasped  the  patient. 

"  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it  as  soon  as  you  are 
able  to  lie  still  and  listen,"  said  Prue,  who  had 
laid  her  plans  on  her  way  from  Essex  Street,  and 
had  her  story  all  ready.  The  duchess  quieted  down 
and  turned  her  face  partly  toward  her. 

"  Is  that  Prudence  Brooke  ?  "  she  asked.  "  If  you 
know  anything  about  that  accursed  necklace,  tell  me 
quickly,  before  it  is  the  death  of  me." 

"  I  have  news  of  it,"  said  Prue,  passing  a  cool, 
soothing  hand  over  the  hot  brow  and  brushing  away 
the  heavy,  straggling  masses  of  hair,  once  the  pride 
of  Sarah  Churchill  and  the  envy  of  rival  beauties. 
"If  the  necklace  is  returned  what  reward  will  you 
give  the  finder  ?  " 

"  Reward  ?  Oh !  he  shall  be  well  rewarded ;  the 
finder  need  not  be  afraid  to  ask  his  own  price," 
cried  the  duchess.  "  And  yet  the  thing  is  worth- 
less to  any  one,  child  —  worse  than  worthless  —  it 
is  deadly!  No  one  would  steal  it  except  to  injure 
me !  But  they  shall  swing  for  it,  no  matter  who  is 
at  the  bottom  of  it  It  is  a  conspiracy  of  those 
who  hate  me  — " 

"  It  is  a  mistake,"  interrupted  Prue ;  "  the  neck- 
lace was  not  stolen,  it  was  taken  by  —  by  acci- 
dent." 

<£  Accident !     Oh,  I  know  what  kind  of  accident 


210       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

it  was ;  it  was  a  conspiracy,  I  tell  you !  "  the  duch- 
ess reiterated. 

"  It  was  a  mistake,"  Prue  urged.  "  I  am  sure 
I  can  prove  it." 

"  Prove  it  a  conspiracy,  Prudence  Brooke  —  prove 
it  so  that  I  can  get  my  revenge  upon  these  wretches 
and  you  may  ask  what  reward  you  will.  Honors 
and  emoluments  shall  be  heaped  upon  you  — " 

"  I  want  neither ! "  cried  Prue  vehemently. 
"  That  is,  the  finder  would  not  accept  money  or 
anything  of  that  kind."  She  began  to  feel  uneasy 
at  the  threatening  tone  the  duchess  took,  and  her 
nimble  wit  jumped  for  shelter.  "  For  myself,"  she 
said,  in  her  most  cajoling  way,  "  I  would  ask  a 
favor  —  not  now,  but  later  —  and  I  want  you  to 
promise  that  you  will  grant  it,  no  matter  how 
strange  and  unreasonable  it  may  seem." 

The  duchess,  who  was  now  quite  collected,  sat 
up  and  looked  searchingly  into  the  guileless  blue 
eyes,  bent  so  eagerly  upon  her.  "  You  would  not 
ask  anything  that  would  injure  me?"  she  said 
slowly.  "  My  enemies  are  so  many  and  so  wily, 
I  fear  to  trust  —  even  you.  Is  it  something  you 
want  for  yourself?  If  so,  I  promise." 

"  A  thousand  thanks,"  cried  Prue.  "  I  may 
never  ask  for  anything;  certainly  never  for  any- 
thing that  would  hurt  my  dear  benefactress  to  grant. 
'Twas  but  a  fancy.  And  such  strange  things  hap- 
pen —  one  never  knows  what  one  may  be  led  into. 
I  have  had  the  strangest  adventure  to-night  — " 

"Another  time,  dear  Prue/'  the  duchess  inter- 


IN  THE  DUCHESS'  APARTMENTS     211 

rupted ;  "  I  can  think  of  nothing  now  but  the  neck- 
lace." 

"  Yet  you  will  own,"  persisted  Prue,  "  when 
you  have  heard  it  to  the  end,  that  it  is  worth  listen- 
ing to.  'Twas  thus  —  as  soon  as  I  heard  of  your 
grace's  troubles,  I  set  out  to  offer  my  heartfelt  con- 
dolences. Scarce  a  hundred  yards  from  home,  the 
chair  was  stopped  and  a  rough  hand  thrust  a  paper 
through  the  curtains.  Here  it  is;  shall  I  fetch  a 
lamp  for  you  to  read  it  by?  " 

"  No,  read  it  to  me.  I  have  wept  myself  pur- 
blind," replied  the  duchess,  without  attempting  to 
disguise  her  impatience  and  lack  of  interest. 

Prue  unfolded  the  paper,  now  soiled  and  crumpled 
from  frequent  handling,  and  read: 

"  MISTRESS  BROOKE  : 

"  Follow  the  bearer  and  you  will  find  the  queen's 
diamond  necklace." 

The  duchess  started  up  and  seized  her  arms  con- 
vulsively. "  Is  this  true,  Prue  ?  "  she  demanded 
tragically.  "  Then  why  did  you  not  go  at  once 
without  coming  to  make  terms  with  me  first  ?  " 

Prue  was  too  well  acquainted  with  the  suspi- 
cious and  selfish  nature  of  the  woman  to  take  any 
offense.  "  I  thought  you  would  be  interested,"  she 
replied  sweetly.  "  Have  a  moment's  patience  and 
I  will  tell  you  how,  reckless  of  consequences,  I 
ordered  the  chairmen  to  follow  this  unknown  leader, 
who  took  us  through  narrow  by-streets,  where  I 
momentarily  expected  to  be  waylaid  and  perhaps 


212       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

murdered.  But  my  desire  to  serve  your  grace  was 
stronger  than  my  fears;  besides,  as  you  are  well 
aware,  I  am  not  very  timid,  especially  when  there 
is  an  adventure  to  the  fore  — " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know  how  reckless  you  are,  but 
where  did  you  find  the  necklace  ? "  the  duchess 
broke  in. 

"  I  am  coming  to  that.  The  chair  stopped  at 
last  and  I  descended  in  a  dark  and  muddy  street, 
where  I  followed  my  conductor  afoot  to  a  lonely 
house,  apparently  uninhabited." 

"  Prudence  —  you  reckless  girl  —  you  ventured 
into  such  a  place  alone  and  unprotected !  "  exclaimed 
the  duchess,  excited  to  such  a  pitch  by  the  story 
that  she  absolutely  forgot  its  reference  to  herself. 
"  What  madness !  " 

"  Oh !  that  is  nothing  to  what  I  would  have  done, 
if  necessary,  for  —  for  your  grace's  sake,"  cried 
Prue.  "  But  I  confess  that  all  my  devotion  was 
needed  to  keep  up  my  courage.  Inside  the  house 
my  situation  was  even  more  terrifying.  All  was 
dark  and  empty  —  it  seemed  the  very  place  for 
secret  deeds  of  horror  —  yet  no  attempt  was  made 
to  harm  me;  not  a  living  creature  appeared  except 
the  person  who  wrote  this  message  and  who,  with- 
out any  ado,  placed  this  in  my  hand  and  begged  me 
to  take  it  away." 

Having  now  arrived  at  the  climax  of  her  story, 
Prue  drew  forth  the  emblazoned  casket  and  dis- 
played the  diamond  necklace. 

The  duchess  snatched  it  from  her  and  gazed  at 


IN  THE  DUCHESS'  APARTMENTS     213 

it  with  entranced  eyes.  She  flung  her  arms  about 
Prue,  calling  her  a  heroine  and  a  marvel,  and  the 
truest  friend  woman  ever  had. 

"  Any  one  but  you  would  have  gone  straight  to 
the  queen  and  left  me  to  my  fate.  There  are  those 
about  that  ungrateful  woman  who  would  have  paid 
mighty  high  for  such  a  chance  of  humiliating  me. 
What  reward  did  the  robber  demand,  and  how  did 
you  satisfy  him?  " 

"There  was  no  robber;  only  an  old  woman," 
said  Prue,  whipping  out  her  carefully  planned 
lie  without  a  tremor.  "  I  know  not  how  she  came 
by  it,  but  she  asked  for  no  reward  and  only  seemed 
to  wish  to  be  rid  of  it.  Indeed,  there  was  no  time 
for  me  to  ask  an  explanation,  if  she  had  one  to 
give,  for  at  the  very  moment  when  the  casket  was 
in  my  hands,  there  arose  a  hubbub  in  the  street 
outside  and  the  house  was  surrounded  by  soldiers. 
The  old  woman  disappeared  as  if  by  magic,  and 
when  the  soldiers  broke  into  the  room  I  was  alone ; 
nor  could  they  find  any  trace  of  her,  though  they 
battered  the  place  to  pieces." 

"  She  shall  be  found  and  compelled  to  give  up 
her  accomplice,"  cried  the  duchess  furiously. 
"  Soldiers  surrounded  the  house,  and  yet  the  mis- 
creant escaped !  Pretty  soldiers,  forsooth !  " 

"  Yes,  truly,"  cried  Prue ;  "  and  more  than  that 
—  they  arrested  poor  little  me  —  because  I  was  all 
alone  there  with  the  queen's  diamonds;  think 
of  that!  I  had  a  narrow  escape  of  spending  the 
night  in  jail!  However,  my  tears  and  entreaties 


214       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

prevailed  upon  them  to  bring  me  here,  and  all  that 
remains  to  be  done  is  to  dismiss  my  captors,  and 
permit  me  to  take  my  leave  of  your  grace." 

"  Not  so  fast,  Prue ;  you  have  still  something 
to  do  for  me,"  said  the  duchess.  "  I  must  hasten 
to  the  queen  and  you  must  go  with  me,  and  repeat 
what  you  have  just  told  me.  Marie !  —  Alice !  — 
leave  off  chattering  and  tire  me  with  all  despatch. 
I  must  see  the  queen  without  a  moment's  loss  of 
time." 

"  Surely,  'tis  too  late  to-night,"  remonstrated 
Prue,  who  was  sinking  with  fatigue.  "  Her  Maj- 
esty will  have  retired." 

"  That's  no  matter,"  retorted  the  duchess  arro- 
gantly; "  I  am  still  Mistress  of  the  Robes,  and  by 
virtue  of  my  office  entitled  to  enter  the  queen's 
bed-chamber  at  all  hours  of  day  or  night.  You 
must  accompany  me,  and  repeat  your  story,  else  I 
might  be  discredited  by  the  reptiles  who  are  for  ever 
at  the  royal  ear,  poisoning  poor,  faithful  Mrs.  Mor- 
ley's  mind  against  her  once  beloved  Mrs.  Freeman. 
Come,  I  am  ready." 

As  they  descended  by  a  private  staircase  to  take 
the  carriage,  the  Groom  of  the  Chambers  ap- 
proached, and  deferentially  inquired  what  was  to 
be  done  with  the  Viscountess  Brooke's  military 
escort. 

"  Faith,  'tis  the  honest  soldier  who  wanted  to 
hale  me  off  to  jail,"  cried  Prue  in  reply  to  the 
duchess'  look  of  surprised  inquiry.  "  He  came 
prepared  to  arrest  a  houseful  of  robbers  or  con- 
spirators—  he  seemed  uncertain  just  which  —  and 


IN  THE  DUCHESS'  APARTMENTS     215 

finding  me  alone,  with  the  queen's  necklace  in 
my  hand,  would  have  taken  me  to  prison  if  I  had 
not  coaxed  him  to  bring  me  to  you  first.  If  I 
might  venture  to  suggest  that  your  grace  bid  him 
attend  us,  he  can  corroborate  my  story,  if  needful." 
"  Let  him  come,"  the  duchess  commanded.  "  I 
would  I  had  a  hundred  witnesses  that  it  was  not 
found  in  Marlborough  House." 


A'   THREAT   AND   A    PROMISE 

WHEN  Prue  reached  home,  about  midnight, 
Peggie,  who  had  been  watching  at  the  win- 
dow during  several  anxious  hours,  met  her  at  the 
door  and  almost  carried  her  up-stairs  in  a  strenuous 
embrace. 

"  Was  that  the  Marlborough  carriage  ?  "  she  de- 
manded eagerly. 

"  Yes ;  the  duchess  insisted  on  bringing  me  home." 

"  Then  all  is  well ;  you  have  no  idea  how  un- 
easy I  have  been.  About  ten  o'clock,  Sir  Geoffrey 
came  to  see  you;  on  a  matter  of  the  utmost  im- 
portance, he  declared,  and  the  mysterious  hints  he 
threw  out  about  the  danger  your  rashness  and 
love  of  adventure  had  led  you  into,  positively  drove 
me  distracted." 

"  I  am  deeply  indebted  to  him  for  his  solicitude," 
said  Prue  disdainfully,  "  but  the  worst  danger 
my  rashness  ever  brought  me  near  —  that  of 
marrying  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert  —  is  happily 
averted.  "Tis  true  I  have  committed  other  follies 
—  one  of  which  has  snatched  me  from  the  jaws 
of  that  peril,  only  to  plunge  me  into  a  host  of 
others,  from  which  I  know  not  how  I  shall  extri- 
cate myself.  Alack!  my  dearest  Peg,  methinks 
poor  Prue  is  but  a  sorry  fool  after  all's  said." 

216 


A  THREAT  AND  A  PROMISE       217 

Peggie's  countenance  fell  into  an  expression  of 
deep  concern.  For  Prue  to  express  a  doubt  of 
her  own  ready  wit,  was  to  utter  heresy  against  the 
first  article  of  Peggie's  faith  in  her. 

"Why,  what  has  happened?"  Peggie  asked,  al- 
most tearfully. 

"  Oh !  nothing  but  good ;  indeed,  the  Fates  have 
showered  me  with  good  luck  until  I  am  afraid  I 
shall  be  buried  alive  under  it." 

"  Come,  there  are  worse  ways  of  being  buried 
than  that,"  cried  Peggie,  brightening  up.  "  A  fig 
for  Sir  Geoffrey's  croaking,  if  there  be  nothing  else 
to  fear.  Now  tell  me  where  you  have  been  all  the 
evening ;  with  the  duchess,  of  course,  as  she  brought 
you  home  ?  " 

"  Not  all  the  time.  First  I  found  the  necklace. 
Then  I  took  it  to  the  duchess  and  together  we  re- 
turned it  to  the  queen.  And  now,  Peggie,  bring 
down  your  eyebrows  out  of  your  hair  and  don't 
open  your  mouth  wide  enough  to  engulf  me,  and 
I'll  tell  you  everything  that  has  happened  to  me,  if 
you  will  undress  me,  for  I  am  too  tired  to  move  a 
finger." 

Peggie  most  gladly  set  to  work  and  had  her 
cousin  unlaced  and  unpinned  and  comfortably 
tucked  in  bed,  long  before  the  history  of  the  even- 
ing's events  had  been  expounded.  From  her,  Prue 
hid  nothing;  in  fact  she  was  craving  to  pour  her 
confidence  into  that  kindly  ear  and  receive  such  un- 
grudging sympathy  and  shrewd  advice  as  the  cir- 
cumstances prompted. 

When  Peggie  had  exhausted  the  vocabulary  of 


2i8       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

astonishment,  admiration,  congratulation  and  an- 
ticipation—  had  shuddered  at  Prue's  danger, 
laughed  at  her  wily  devices,  marveled  incredu- 
lously at  her  passionate  avowal  of  love,  and  re- 
jected all  possibility  of  fear  for  Robin's  safety,  she 
withdrew  reluctantly,  declaring  that  she  should  not 
close  an  eye  that  night  —  and  was  fast  asleep  al- 
most before  her  head  reached  the  pillow. 

Prue  was  less  fortunate,  and  for  an  hour  or 
two  tossed  and  turned,  vainly  trying  every  soothing 
device  to  calm  her  racked  nerves  and  woo  repose. 

While  Peggie  the  optimistic  was  beside  her, 
Robin's  escape  appeared  more  than  probable ;  she 
could  almost  persuade  herself  that  it  was  an  ac- 
complished fact.  'But  it  looked  less  certain,  now 
her  blood  ran  cool,  and  her  high  spirit  flagged  in 
the  darkness  and  silence  of  night.  Her  faith  in 
his  courage  and  resource  could  not  entirely  resist 
the  paralyzing  touch  of  fear,  and  even  her  confi- 
dence in  the  value  of  the  pledge  she  had  extracted 
from  the  duchess  was  shaken  by  the  unmistakable 
coolness  of  the  queen,  who  had  listened  in  silence 
to  the  explanations  of  her  former  favorite  and  re- 
served all  her  praises  and  expressions  of  satisfac- 
tion for  Prue,  to  whom  she  had  been  cordiality  itself. 

Toward  morning  she  slept  so  long  and  heavily, 
that  Peggie  came  and  went  a  dozen  times  before 
the  long  lashes  lifted  and  the  sweet  blue  eyes  smiled 
drowsily  up  at  her.  And  even  when  she  woke  she 
was  loath  to  rise,  and  fain  to  rest  more  than  once 
during  the  tedious  process  of  her  toilet,  inter- 
rupted as  it  was  by  an  obsequious  procession  of 


A  THREAT  AND  A  PROMISE       219 

mercers  and  modistes,  eager  to  make  their  peace 
with  the  restored  favorite  by  the  most  pressing  and 
disinterested  services. 

But  a  curious  change  had  come  over  the  wilful 
beauty,  and  instead  of  throwing  herself  heart  and 
soul  into  the  entrancing  discussions  of  hoops  and 
pouffes,  sarsenet  and  tabbinet,  plumes  and  perfumes, 
she  declined  the  counsel  of  this  one  and  the  coax- 
ing of  that  one,  and  sent  the  sycophant  crowd  away 
wondering  what  had  happened  to  turn  the  most 
extravagant  of  court  butterflies  niggardly.  The 
most  bewitching  "  head,"  the  richest  farthingale, 
won  but  a  passing  glance  and  a  word  of  careless 
criticism,  and  when  Peggie,  almost  as  dissatisfied 
as  the  rejected  tradesfolk,  remonstrated  against 
such  a  blind  neglect  of  opportunity,  Prue  lay  back 
wearily  in  her  chair  and  dropping  her  arms  loosely 
at  her  side,  said  impatiently : 

"  Cousin,  Cousin  —  I  am  sick  to  death  of  it  all !  " 

"  All  of  what?  "  cried  Peggie  briskly.  "  All  you 
have  lost  for  a  whole  year  and  won  back  in  less 
than  a  week?  " 

"Aye,  all  that  and  more;  sick  of  court  and 
courtiers,  sick  of  idle  men  and  vapid  women,  sick 
of  myself  most  of  all — " 

Then  she  sprang  to  her  feet  and  burst  out  laugh- 
ing. "  What  a  fool  I  am,  Peg,  and  what  a  fool 
you  look  standing  there,  open-mouthed,  drinking  in 
my  vaporings  as  though  you  never  had  heard  me 
grumble  before!  Did  you  think  I  was  in  earnest? 
Why,  I  was  never  so  happy  in  my  life.  Did  not 
the  queen  kiss  me  on  the  cheek,  and  the  duchess 


220       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

swear  to  give  me  whatever  I  might  ask  of  her; 
even  the  first  choice  of  the  places  she  has  no  longer 
to  dispose  of  and  the  royal  favors  that  she  can  no 
longer  influence?  Am  I  not  invited  to  Windsor 
as  lady-in-waiting  on  probation  and  lauded  to  the 
skies  as  a  heroine  by  — " 

"  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert  wishes  to  know  if  your 
ladyship  will  receive  him." 

The  voice  of  James  at  the  door  produced  a  silence 
so  profound  that  after  a  short  pause  he  repeated 
his  message  in  a  louder  tone.  "  Sir  Geoffrey  Beau- 
desert  is  below,  my  Lady,  and  wishes  to  see  your 
ladyship  most  particularly." 

"  You  had  better  see  him,"  said  Peggie,  in  re- 
sponse to  Prue's  startled  and  questioning  glance. 

"  I  will  see  Sir  Geoffrey,"  said  Prue.  "  Tell  him 
I  will  be  down  immediately." 

"  Shall  I  come  with  you  ?  "  asked  Peggie. 

"  Oh,  no,  no.  I  can  play  my  little  comedy  better 
to  an  audience  of  one;  besides,  you  know  the 
truth ! "  she  cried,  and  ran  to  the  mirror  to  see  if 
the  battery  of  her  charms  was  in  order  for  the 
fray. 

Sir  Geoffrey,  his  face  set  in  a  mechanical  smile, 
met  her  with  a  deep  bow  and  pressed  a  ceremonious 
kiss  upon  her  extended  hand. 

"  Permit  your  slave  to  offer  his  humble  congratu- 
lations, my  dear  Prudence,"  he  said ;  "  I  hear  that 
you  have  distinguished  yourself  with  even  more 
than  your  usual  brilliancy." 

"  You  allude  to  the  fortunate  accident  that  en- 
abled me  to  return  the  lost  necklace  to  Her  Majesty, 


A  THREAT  AND  A  PROMISE       221 

I  presume?"  Prue  replied,  seating  herself  and 
negligently  pointing  with  her  fan  to  a  sufficiently 
distant  chair.  "  I  assure  you  I  deem  myself  most 
happy  in  rendering  a  service,  which  has  been  only 
too  highly  appreciated,  but  I  can  not  lay  claim  to 
brilliancy,  for  I  was  but  a  passive  instrument." 

"The  brilliancy  I  refer  to,  dear  Viscountess, 
was  not  so  much  the  '  fortunate  accident '  as  the 
ready  wit  by  which  you  turned  so  compromising 
an  adventure  to  such  good  account,"  said  Sir  Geof- 
frey significantly. 

The  challenge  of  his  tone  and  words  was  unmis- 
takable and  Prue  responded  with  more  spirit  than 
wisdom. 

"  You  must  speak  more  plainly  if  you  wish  to 
be  understood,"  she  answered.  "  Compromising 
adventures,  you  know  very  well,  are  not  rare  in 
my  experience  —  or  yours  " —  she  laughed  rather 
maliciously  — "  but  I  seldom  turn  them  to  good  ac- 
count. Now,  the  accident  that  gave  the  queen's 
necklace  into  my  hands  — " 

"Was  the  happy  result  of  a  little  visit  to  New- 
gate," interposed  Sir  Geoffrey,  with  veiled  inso- 
lence. "  Why  beat  about  the  bush  with  me,  dear- 
est girl?  I  know  who  gave  you  the  necklace  — 
when  he  was  warned,  by  you,  of  the  danger  of 
keeping  it!  and  how  it  came  about  that  he  was 
lucky  enough  to  escape  before  the  soldiers  arrived 
to  arrest  him." 

"  What  in  the  world  are  you  talking  about,  Sir 
Geoffrey  ? "  she  cried,  with  rather  over-acted  be- 
wilderment. 


222       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  What  is  every  one  talking  about  to-day,  but  the 
madcap  viscountess,  who  coaxed  the  highwayman 
out  of  the  stolen  necklace,  and  being  caught  in  the 
trap  that  was  limed  for  Robin  Freemantle,  circum- 
vented the  soldiers,  cozened  the  Duchess  of  Marl- 
borough  and  beguiled  the  Queen's  Majesty.  Am 
I  not  right  in  congratulating  you  on  such  a  brilliant 
series  of  achievements  ?  '* 

"  My  dear  Sir  Geoffrey,  you  have  mistaken  your 
vocation,"  she  laughed.  "  With  such  an  imagina- 
tion you  ought  to  have  been,  not  a  member  of  Parlia- 
ment, but  a  poet!  I  am  quite  interested  in  this  ro- 
mance ;  surely  there  is  more  of  it  ?  " 

"  Considerably  more,"  he  went  on,  lowering  his 
voice  and  drawing  his  chair  closer  to  her.  "  There 
are  those  who  saw  the  beautiful  shepherdess  in 
close  conversation  with  a  masker  in  red,  at  the  ball ; 
and  who  now  know  that  he  was  no  other  than 
Robin  Freemantle  in  the  borrowed  plumes  of 
Beachcombe.  You  have  enemies,  fair  Prudence  — 
men  you  have  jilted  and  women  you  have  excelled 
in  wit  and  beauty  —  and  by  some  of  these  you  were 
seen,  in  company  with  the  Red  Domino,  very  near 
the  queen's  tiring-room,  from  which  the  necklace 
was  stolen.  Can  you  wonder  that  when  a  story  is 
bruited  about  that  Lady  Prudence  Brooke,  in  dead 
of  night,  was  discovered  with  the  necklace  in  her 
possession,  in  the  place  where  Robin  Freemantle 
was  looked  for,  these  good  people  should  compare 
notes  about  her  ladyship's  latest  exploit,  and  place 
their  own  construction  upon  it  ?  " 

"And    you,    Sir    Geoffrey?"    she    asked,    her 


A  THREAT  AND  A  PROMISE       223 

thoughtful  eyes  upon  his,  "  what  construction  do 
you  place  upon  this  curious  rodomontade?  " 

"  Oh!  "  he  laughed  softly;  "  I  hold  all  the  clews, 
so  it  seems  less  of  a  rodomontade  to  me  than,  per- 
haps, to  others.  I  alone  know  of  the  little  ceremony 
in  Newgate,  which  explains  all." 

"Oh!  it  explains  all,  does  it?"  she  repeated  re- 
flectively. "  I  should  be  glad  to  hear  the  explana- 
tion, now  you  have  propounded  the  conundrum." 

"  'Tis  simple  enough.  When  Barbara  Sweeting 
told  the  story  of  the  necklace,  you  instantly  jumped 
at  the  same  conclusion  as  the  rest  of  us  —  namely, 
that  Robin  Freemantle,  secure  in  his  disguise,  had 
made  the  use  of  his  opportunity  that  a  robber  natu- 
rally would,  and  had  stolen  the  most  valuable  thing 
he  could  lay  his  hands  on — " 

"Oh!  then  you  don't  give  me  the  credit  of  the 
robbery  ?  "  she  exclaimed  with  a  pout.  "  It  would 
have  added  so  much  to  the  interest  of  the  romance 
if  I—" 

"You?  Oh!  Lady  Prudence,  can  you  ask  me 
such  a  question?  "  he  interrupted,  in  a  tone  of  vehe- 
ment reproach.  "  I  only  give  you  credit  for  hasten- 
ing to  warn  your  —  husband  of  his  danger  and 
carrying  away  the  incriminating  proof  of  his  guilt; 
and  I  admire  your  courage  and  generosity  though  I 
deplore  its  object." 

"  Have  you  quite  finished  this  romantic  story, 
Sir  Geoffrey?"  queried  Prue,  dismissing  his  per- 
sonal opinion  with  a  disdainful  toss  of  her  fan. 

"  The  preface  only,  but  the  rest  will  wait,"  he  re- 
plied, with  a  sinister  smile. 


224       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  Then  perhaps  you  would  like  to  hear  what 
really  happened?  It  would  be  useless  for  me  to 
deny  —  even  if  I  wished  —  that  I  spoke  with  Cap- 
tain Freemantle,  at  the  ball  — " 

"  Quite  so,"  Sir  Geoffrey  agreed  blandly. 

"  Not  that  I  wish  to  deny  it,"  she  went  on  petu- 
lantly ;  "  at  a  masquerade  everything  is  permitted, 
and  you,  my  dear  Sir  Geoffrey,  know  better  than 
any  one  else,  this  gentleman's  claim  upon  my  atten- 
tion. Still,  I  fail  to  see  any  connection  between 
Captain  Freemantle's  presence  at  the  ball  and  the 
disappearance  of  the  necklace  —  about  which,  you 
must  acknowledge,  that  I  know  more  than  any  one 
else,  since  I  found  —  and  restored  it." 

Sir  Geoffrey  bowed  his  acquiescence,  but  his 
smile  was  not  reassuring. 

",We  all  know  what  an  admirable  raconteuse 
Barbara  is,  and  I  was  naturally  much  worked  up 
by  her  story  of  the  lost  necklace;  in  fact  I  could 
scarcely  restrain  my  impatience  to  hear  a  more 
authentic  account,"  Prue  proceeded,  recovering  her 
self-confidence,  which  for  a  moment  had  wavered 
under  Sir  Geoffrey's  attack.  "  So  the  moment 
my  visitors  left  me,  I  sent  for  a  chair  and  started 
for  Marlborough  House,  to  get  my  information  at 
first  hand.  At  a  short  distance,  however,  I  was 
interrupted  by  a  person  who  thrust  this  paper  into 
my  hand." 

She  drew  from  her  bosom  the  crumpled  docu- 
ment which  had  already  played  an  important  part 
in  her  version  of  the  affair,  and  handed  it  to  him. 

Sir  Geoffrey  read  it  carefully,  refolded  it,  and 


A  THREAT  AND  A  PROMISE       225 

meeting  her  eye,  bowed  gravely,  as  though  to  inti- 
mate that  he  was  too  much  interested  to  break  the 
thread  of  the  narrative,  even  by  a  word. 

"  You  know  my  love  of  adventure  too  well  to 
doubt  that  I  instantly  decided  to  risk  everything 
and  follow  this  clue.  It  took  me  to  a  dismal  old 
house  —  empty,  I  believe,  except  for  an  old  hag, 
who,  keeping  her  face  concealed,  thrust  the  casket 
into  my  hands  and  at  the  first  sound  of  the  soldiers' 
approach,  disappeared." 

Sir  Geoffrey  softly  clapped  his  hands,  as  though 
in  applause. 

"Capital!  excellent!"  he  cried.  "My  dear 
Prue,  with  shame  I  confess  that  I  never  before 
have  done  justice  to  the  vast  resources  of  your  wit. 
I  actually  dared  to  wonder  how  you  had  managed 
to  forestall  suspicion  and  snatch  safety  out  of  the 
jaws  of  peril.  You  have  surpassed  yourself!  To 
plan  so  subtly;  to  execute  so  promptly!  To  omit 
nothing  —  even  the  written  proof  —  and  to  crown 
it  all  with  a  guileless  frankness  that  might  disarm 
the  most  captious,  and  certainly  would  have  de- 
ceived me,  if  I  had  not  been  close  beside  you  from 
the  moment  you  emerged  from  your  own  door  until 
that  of  Robin  Freemantle  hid  you  from  my  jealous 
eyes ! " 

Then  suddenly,  without  giving  her  time  to  dis- 
guise the  startled  dismay  that  sprang  to  her  eyes, 
he  bent  forward  and  seized  her  two  hands  in  his. 

"  Why  treat  your  faithful  lover  so  harshly,  sweet 
Prue?"  he  went  on  passionately.  "Have  I  not 
proven  my  love  again  and  again  in  the  defense  of 


your  reputation  and  in  unquestioning  submission  to 
your  caprices?  Have  I  not  endured  your  coldness 
and  yielded  my  just  claims  before  the  scruple  that 
prompted  you  to  deny  your  future  husband  the 
smallest  favor,  while  the  phantom  of  a  vow  linked 
you  to  a  felon?  And  am  I  to  have  no  reward, 
not  even  enough  of  your  confidence  to  enable  me 
to  give  the  lie  to  your  traducers  ?  " 

"  My  traducers !  "  she  cried  impatiently.  "  Who 
are  they?  At  present  the  only  person  who  has 
dared  to  cast  a  doubt  on  my  veracity  is  —  Sir 
Geoffrey  Beaudesert ! " 

"  And  how  long  do  you  expect  to  escape  the 
pack  of  '  damned  good-natured  friends  *  who  have 
been  accustomed  to  feed  upon  the  choice  morsels 
of  scandal  you  have  liberally  provided  for  them?  " 
he  demanded.  "  Before  to-night  every  gossip  in 
town  will  be  in  possession  of  the  story  of  your 
adventures,  and  each  one  who  recounts  it  will  put 
his  own  construction  upon  it." 

"  "Pis  true,"  she  murmured.  "  I  have  often  as- 
sisted at  such  feasts  of  reason.  They  are  highly 
entertaining,  and  every  one  is  eager  to  add  a  dash 
of  spice  or  vinegar  to  the  witches'  broth.  And 
there  is  nothing  I  can  do  to  stop  those  busybodies." 
She  glanced  resentfully  at  Sir  Geoffrey,  yet  there 
was  inquiry  in  her  eye. 

"  Certainly  there  is  something,"  he  replied,  an- 
swering the  unspoken  question.  "  You  can  give 
them  something  else  to  talk  about  that  will  throw 
the  escapade  of  the  necklace  into  the  shade.  The 
shade,  do  I  say?  Rather  into  utter  oblivion."  An 


A  THREAT  AND  A  PROMISE       227 

ironical  smile  began  to  dawn  upon  her  face,  but  he 
did  not  leave  her  time  to  speak.  "  You  can  give 
them  a  wedding  to  talk  about,  a  subject  that 
eclipses  every  other;  if  you  prefer  it,  an  elopement; 
indeed,  I  think  that  would  be  more  dramatic.  Say 
but  the  word,  dearest,  and  in  an  hour,  a  post-' 
chaise  — " 

"  Oh !  Sir  Geoffrey,"  she  exclaimed,  bursting  into 
a  hearty  laugh.  "  Can  you  really  seriously  propose  , 
such  an  absurdity  to  me?  An  elopement?  a  post- 
chaise?  Methinks  I  should  be  like  a  man  who 
jumps  into  a  river  to  avoid  being  wetted  by  a  pass- 
ing shower!  We  should  indeed  give  the  town 
something  to  talk  about;  and  not  only  talk,  but 
laugh  at." 

"  Let  them  laugh,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey  doggedly. 
"  So  can  I ;  and  he  laughs  longest  who  laughs  last." 

"  With  me  for  the  butt  of  your  hilarity  ? 
Thanks,  I  am  always  pleased  to  have  my  friends 
—  and  my  enemies  —  laugh  with  me,  but  to  have 
them  all  laughing  at  me  is  scarcely  to  my  taste. 
Besides,  for  you,  Sir  Geoffrey,  to  suggest  such  a 
thing  to  me  —  you  who  know  that  I  am  already 
another  man's  wife  and  can  not  therefore  legally 
become  yours  —  for  you  to  make  such  an  offer  is 
an  insult  —  no  less." 

"  My  dearest  Prue,  spare  me  these  reproaches. 
I  grant  that  yesterday,  while  this  man  lived,  you 
were  —  in  a  sort  of  way  —  his  wife.  But  why 
should  you,  who  were  on  the  spot,  pretend  to  be 
ignorant  of  what  the  whole  town  knows  this  morn- 
ing, that  Robin  Freemantle  was  killed  last  night, 


228       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

and  that  consequently  you  are,  as  you  naturally 
wish  to  be  —  his  widow?  I  congratulate  you  — 
and  myself." 

All  Prue's  forebodings  revived  at  these  words, 
uttered  with  an  air  of  triumphant  security  that 
struck  a  chill  to  her  heart.  "I  —  I  do  not  under- 
stand you  — "  she  stammered,  trying  to  appear  un- 
concerned. 

"  Oh !  I  think  you  do,"  he  replied,  "  only  you 
love  to  torment  me  by  playing  the  inexorable  prude. 
You  were  at  Robin's  house  and  witnessed  —  nay, 
possibly  connived  at  his  escape.  You  were  still 
there  when  the  soldiers  overtook  the  boat  in  which 
he  and  his  band  were  attempting  escape,  and  shot 
the  fugitives  and  sank  their  boat.  The  news  in  to- 
day's Courant  can  not  but  confirm  your  own  hopes 
of  regaining  the  joys  of  freedom,  with  all  the  ad- 
vantages for  which  you  married  Captain  —  de 
Cliffe." 

As  she  remained  silent,  he  drew  the  News  sheet 
from  his  pocket  and,  with  a  great  show  of  search- 
ing out  the  item,  handed  it  to  her.  She  waved  it 
away  with  a  careless  gesture  and  when  he  offered 
to  read  it  to  her,  she  merely  bent  her  head  slightly, 
never  moving  her  eyes  from  his  face. 

" '  At  a  time  when  the  whole  country  is  terrorized 
by  highwaymen  and  footpads,  singly  and  in  bands, 
news  of  the  extermination  of  the  notorious  gang 
of  robbers  under  the  leadership  of  Robin  Free- 
mantle  (recently  condemned  to  be  hanged  at  Ty- 
burn for  his  crimes  and  later  mysteriously  released) 


A  THREAT  AND  A  PROMISE       229 

will  be  highly  gratifying,  to  the  traveling  public 
who  go  in  constant  fear  of  their  lives  because  of 
the  boldness  of  these  marauders,  who  infest  the 
very  streets  of  the  metropolis.  No  longer  ago 
than  last  Monday  L — d  B— ch — e  was  attacked  by 
these  very  miscreants,  robbed  and  held  in  captivity 
(doubtless  for  ransom)  while  Robin  Freemantle, 
disguised  in  his  captive's  domino,  attended  the 
masquerade  at  Marlborough  House  and  robbed  the 
duchess'  guests  —  not  even  sparing,  if  rumor  may 
be  credited,  the  queen's  most  sacred  Majesty!! 

" '  But  for  this  piece  of  shameless  audacity,  the 
ruffians  might  still  be  at  large  and  the  hangman 
still  looking  forward  hopefully  to  his  fees.  We 
have  it  on  unimpeachable  authority  that  a  certain 
beautiful  v-sc-t-ss,  renowned  equally  for  her  lively 
adventures  and  her  incomparable  charms,  deter- 
mined to  avenge  this  outrage  upon  her  sovereign 
mistress,  and  with  undaunted  courage  and  mar- 
velous shrewdness,  tracked  the  robber  to  his  lair 
and  actually  recovered  the  stolen  jewels!!!  Then, 
at  a  preconcerted  signal,  soldiers  surrounded  the 
house,  and  when  the  robber-band  attempted  to  escape 
by  the  river,  sank  the  boat  with  all  the  fugitives  on 
board.  The  exact  number  is  not  known,  but  must 
assuredly  have  been  large  —  probably  a  dozen  or  a 
score.  One  thing  only  is  certain  —  none  remained 
in  the  house  and  none  can  possibly  have  escaped  — ' 

"  There  is  more  about  the  affair,  but  nothing  that 
will  interest  you  as  much  as  that  last  paragraph," 
said  Sir  Geoffrey,  folding  the  sheet. 


230 

"  It  is  certainly  most  interesting  to  hear  that 
there  were  twenty  miscreants  in  the  house,"  cried 
Prue,  who  had  had  time  during  the  reading  (which 
was  impressively  deliberate  and  pompous)  to  recover 
her  self-command.  "  My  exploit  is  vastly  enhanced 
by  the  large  number  of  human  lions  and  tigers  I 
bearded  in  their  den.  I  begin  to  feel  myself  a 
heroine  indeed !  " 

"There  could  be  but  one  opinion  as  to  that,"  said 
Sir  Geoffrey,  with  a  profound  bow  that  scarcely 
accorded  with  the  cold  irony  of  his  smile. 

"  Pray  keep  my  counsel,  and  do  not  tell  any  one 
that  I  never  saw  any  of  the  twenty  robbers,  and  in 
fact  had  no  idea  that  there  were  any  in  the  place," 
said  Prue.  "  You  don't  know  how  much  I  am 
indebted  to  you,  Sir  Geoffrey,  for  all  the  informa- 
tion you  have  given  me  about  my  little  adventure !  " 

"  I  am  indeed  happy  in  being  the  first  to  assure 
you  of  its  fortunate  ending,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey, 
rising.  "  Surely  you  will  now  permit  me,  dearest, 
to  urge  my  suit " — he  dropped  upon  one  knee  be- 
fore her,  and  had  pressed  several  passionate  kisses 
upon  her  hand  before  she  made  any  attempt  to  repel 
him. 

"  That  will  do  for  the  present,  Sir  Geoffrey," 
she  said  at  last.  "  Please  get  up  and  be  rational. 
You  do  not  expect  me,  I  presume,  to  send  for  a 
parson  and  marry  you  offhand?  I  may  be  a 
widow  again;  but  I  must  have  surer  proof  of  it 
than  a  mere  rumor,  such  as  this,  before  I  wed 
again.  I  have  yet  to  be  convinced  that  Captain  de 
Cliffe  left  that  house  —  that  he  ever  was  in  it! 


A  THREAT  AND  A  PROMISE       231 

'Tis  strange  you  should  insist  upon  that  —  methinks 
that  for  a  suitor  so  eager  to  press  his  own  claims, 
you  are  over-ready  to  accuse  me  of  keeping  tryst 
with  another  —  husband !  " 

"  Accuse,  sweet  Prudence !  You  mistake  me  alto- 
gether. Too  well,  alas!  do  I  know  the  coldness  of 
your  heart  and  the  inaccessible  distance  from  which 
your  adorers  are  expected  to  admire  you.  Surely, 
you  do  not  think  me  capable  of  a  doubt  ?  " 

"  You  were  capable  of  spying  on  me  and  follow- 
ing me,  by  your  own  showing,"  she  retorted  sharply. 

"  For  your  own  sake,  dearest ;  merely  to  be  ready 
in  case  you  needed  a  strong  arm  and  a  skilled 
sword  to  defend  you.  And  all  I  ask  now  is  that 
you  will  accept  that  protection  for  life  and  give 
me  the  right  to  silence  every  malicious  tongue  with 
the  public  announcement  of  our  approaching  mar- 
riage. Who  will  dare,"  Sir  Geoffrey  went  on,  in 
his  most  grandiloquent  manner,  "  to  defame  the 
lady  of  whom  I  am  ready  to  say,  '  This  is  my 
promised  wife;  her  honor  is  mine?' 

"  A  truce  to  your  braggadocio,  my  good  friend," 
laughed  Prue ;  "  your  tragic  tones  and  frowning 
looks  almost  persuade  me  that  I  need  protection! 
Believe  me,  you  are  in  a  far  worse  case  than  I ; 
you  stand  greatly  in  need  of  a  disinterested  ad- 
viser, who  would  counsel  you  to  leave  me  before 
too  late,  or  at  least  take  time  —  a  year  or  two,  we 
will  say  —  to  think  it  over." 

"  Was  there  ever  a  lover  that  listened  to  such 
counsel?  Not  if  he  loved  as  I  do,  dear  one.  So 
far  from  waiting  a  year,  I  swear  that  a  week  is 


232       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

too  long,  and  that  if  you  do  not  marry  me  to- 
morrow — " 

He  hesitated  and  Prue  took  him  up  sharply. 
"  What  if  I  do  not  marry  you  to-morrow?  Pray 
finish  your  threat,  so  that  I  may  know  what  fate 
awaits  me,  since  I  shall  certainly  not  marry  to- 
morrow, neither  next  week,  nor,  perchance,  next 
year!" 

"  And  does  your  ladyship  imagine  that  I,  Geof- 
frey Beaudesert,  will  swell  the  ranks  of  those  whom 
the  beautiful  Viscountess  Brooke  has  left  lament- 
ing at  the  church-door  ? "  demanded  the  suitor, 
giving  way  at  last  to  his  long-suppressed  fury. 
"  No,  no,  you  can  not  play  with  me  as  you  did  with 
Beachcombe,  O'Keefe,  Sutherland  and  a  dozen 
others.  To-day  I  love  you  to  distraction;  you 
may  bend  me  to  your  lightest  caprice  with  a  kind 
word.  But  scorn  me,  and  to-morrow  you  will 
have  an  enemy  with  the  will,  as  well  as  the  power, 
to  cover  you  with  shame.  Aye,  shame,  Lady  Pru- 
dence Brooke !  "  as  she  sprang  to  her  feet  with  blaz- 
ing eyes.  "  Where  will  you  hide  your  head  when  all 
the  world  knows  how  and  why  you  became  the 
wife  of  an  outlaw  and  a  felon — the  thief  who 
stole  the  queen's  necklace,  for  a  nuptial  gift  to  his 
bride!  Ha,  ha!  that  will  be  a  feast  indeed  for  the 
scandal-mongers  of  London  Town !  " 

"  And  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert  —  how  will  he 
appear  in  the  affair  ?  "  she  retorted.  "  This  is  not 
the  first  time  to-day  that  you  have  threatened  me, 
Sir  Geoffrey,  but  I  advise  you  to  let  it  be  the  last, 
for  I  warn  you  that  if  you  drive  me  to  do  so,  I 


A  THREAT  AND  A  PROMISE       233 

may  tell  the  story  myself;  and  my  version  of  it 
will  not  leave  you  entirely  unscathed.  How  could 
I  have  done  this  thing  —  this  shameful,  scandalous 
thing,  as  you  truly  call  it  —  if  you  had  not  helped ; 
nay,  pushed  me  into  it?  Who  bought  the  ring  and 
license,  and  hired  the  parson  ?  He  was  an  ordained 
Church-of -England  clergyman,  was  he  not?  If  I 
am  not  mistaken,  it  was  you  who  ordered  him  to 
make  the  marriage-service  *  brief  and  binding,'  and 
bade  him  keep  his  own  counsel  until  his  evidence  was 
needed  to  prove  me  Captain  de  Cliffe's  widow? 
If  the  scandal-mongers  of  London  Town  feast  at 
my  expense,  they  will  certainly  banquet  at  yours! 
And  if  you  talk  of  enemies  —  but  no,  we  are  not 
silly  children  to  wrangle  over  trifles,  and  scratch 
and  slap  each  other's  face  because  we  can  not  have 
our  own  way  all  the  time.  Let  us  forget  this  folly 
and  talk  of  pleasanter  things." 

"  No  subject  is  pleasant  to  me  but  one  —  your- 
self," said  Sir  Geoffrey,  with  an  effort  to  resume 
his  ordinary  manner.  "  Believe  me,  however  im- 
patient I  may  appear  as  a  lover,  as  a  husband  you 
will  find  me  a  pattern  of  indulgence.  But  do  not, 
I  entreat  you,  try  my  patience  much  longer." 

"  No  doubt,  Sir  Geoffrey,  I  ought  to  be  nattered 
by  your  persistence,"  replied  Prue  petulantly,  "  but 
if  you  have  so  little  delicacy  as  to  press  one  hus- 
band upon  me  before  the  other  is  in  his  grave, 
you  surely  are  not  anxious  to  inflict  upon  me  the 
possible  fate  of  a  bigamist?  If,  perchance,  one  of 
these  twenty  highwaymen  escaped,  and  that  one 
proved  to  be  the  one  you  helped  me  to  marry,  your 


234       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

hasty  wooing  might  cause  poor  Prudence  Brooke  to 
blossom  on  Tyburn  Tree  or,  worse  still,  to  end  her 
days  on  a  cotton  plantation.  'Tis  strange  how 
much  more  anxious  you  are  to  wed  me  since  I  be- 
came a  wife,  than  you  were  when  I  was  really  a 
widow!  Then  I  heard  nothing  about  post-chaises 
and  elopements — " 

"  Because  then,  dear  Prue,  I  had  not  known 
the  torture  of  Tantalus,  the  anguish  of  seeing  you 
within  reach  of  my  arms,  yet  held  at  an  inaccessi- 
ble distance  by  the  accursed  phantom  of  a  husband, 
who  was  no  husband  and  never  could  be  one. 
Pardon  me  if  I  am  unable  to  restrain  my  jealous 
ardor,  and  believe  me,  if  you  will  but  set  a  time 
for  rewarding  my  devotion,  I  will  endeavor,  how- 
ever difficult  the  task,  not  to  offend  again." 

Prue  reflected  a  few  moments.  Then  she  rose, 
with  an  air  that  left  Sir  Geoffrey  no  choice  but  to 
follow  her  example. 

"  Sir  Geoffrey,"  she  said,  "  I  am  invited  to  ac- 
company the  queen  to  Windsor,  whither  she  in- 
tends to  go  this  week  for  a  few  days'  rest,  and 
perchance  to  be  out  of  hearing  of  the  wrangling 
of  Whigs  and  Tories  for  a  season.  When  I  re- 
turn, if  you  are  still  in  the  same  mind,  I  promise 
to  be  ready  with  an  answer,  with  which  I  shall 
hope  to  satisfy  you.  In  the  meantime,  I  shall  not 
take  it  amiss  if  you  reflect  seriously  upon  the  many 
defects  of  my  character  and  the  great  disadvantages 
you  will  bring  on  yourself  by  marrying  penniless 
me,  instead  of  seeking  out  some  charming  heiress 
—  of  whom  I  could  point  out  several,  both  maids 


A  THREAT  AND  A  PROMISE       235- 

and  widows  —  to  whom  your  many  noble  qualities 
—  and  your  title  —  would  be  irresistible." 

She  made  him  the  deepest  of  curtseys,  preserving 
all  the  time  a  countenance  so  grave  and  dignified 
that  he  was  completely  silenced,  and  was  withdraw- 
ing without  further  remonstrance,  when  the  door 
was  flung  open,  and  James,  in  his  most  impressive 
manner,  announced: 

"  Lord  Beachcombe." 


CHAPTER  XXT 

AN  AFFAIR  OF  FAMILY 

THERE  was  a  momentary  pause  of  embarrass- 
ment. Lord  Beachcombe's  last  visit  to  Lady 
Drumloch's  house  had  been  under  circumstances 
that  made  the  present  one  quite  unforeseen.  Also 
he  had  not  met  Sir  Geoffrey  since  their  hostile  en- 
counter in  Hyde  Park,  therefore  a  meeting  in  the 
presence  of  the  woman  who  had  been  so  disturbing 
an  element  in  both  their  lives,  was  mutually  discon- 
certing. 

Sir  Geoffrey  was  the  first  to  recover  himself, 
greeting  the  new  arrival  with  exaggerated  polite- 
ness and  inquiring  after  his  health  with  a  solicitude 
that  Lord  Beachcombe  did  not  attempt  to  recipro- 
cate. The  wound  he  had  received  from  Sir  Geof- 
frey's sword  was  slight  enough  to  be  patched  up 
with  a  few  strips  of  court-plaster ;  the  wound  to  his 
vanity  still  gaped.  He  looked  on  with  a  sardonic 
smjle  while  Sir  Geoffrey,  pressing  several  impas- 
sioned kisses  upon  Prue's  reluctant  hand,  bade  her 
"  a  brief  adieu,"  and  slowly  backed  himself  to  the 
door. 

"  I  trust  I  am  not  driving  Sir  Geoffrey  Beau- 
desert  away,"  said  Beachcombe  stiffly. 

"  By  no  means,"  cried  Prue  with  alacrity.  "  Sir 
Geoffrey  was  taking  his  leave  when  you  entered. 

236 


AN  AFFAIR  OF  FAMILY  237 

Sir  Geoffrey,  farewell.  No  doubt  we  shall  meet 
at  Lady  Rialton's,  or  elsewhere,  later  in  the  day; 
our  world  is  so  small,  we  can  not  get  away  from  one 
another  even  for  an  hour;  don't  you  find  it  some- 
times grows  monotonous,  Lord  Beachcombe?" 

As  the  door  closed  upon  the  parting  guest,  Beach- 
combe  approached  her  with  an  air  of  distant  re- 
spect, bowing  profoundly,  with  his  hand  upon  his 
breast. 

"  Pardon  this  intrusion,  Lady  Prudence,  and  per- 
mit me  to  lay  my  homage  at  your  feet,"  he  said. 

Prue  curtsied  again.  "  Pray,  my  Lord,  do  not 
wound  me  by  apologizing  for  a  friendly  visit,"  she 
returned,  with  a  sweet  smile.  "  Be  seated,  and  let 
me  offer  you  a  cup  of  chocolate." 

The  little  torment  had  jumped  quickly  to  the  con- 
clusion that  some  motive  of  strong  personal  inter- 
est had  brought  her  old  lover  to  the  house  he  had 
never  entered  since,  scarcely  a  year  ago,  their  troth 
had  been  broken  with  bitter  words  and  thinly 
veiled  insults  on  both  sides.  Her  quick  intuition 
warned  her  that  his  visit  might,  very  possibly,  add 
another  snarl  to  the  tangle  in  which  she  felt  herself 
becoming  hopelessly  enmeshed.  So  she  exerted  all 
her  tact  and  skill  to  keep  him  on  tenter-hooks,  and 
give  herself  time  to  gather  her  forces,  while  she 
discussed  frothy  scandals  and  airy  nothings,  pre- 
tending not  to  notice  his  lack  of  response  and  ill- 
repressed  impatience,  until  suddenly  she  turned  full 
upon  him  her  clear  and  dazzling  glance  and  changed 
her  tactics  without  a  moment's  warning. 

"  But  I  had  forgotten,"  she  said,  "  how  little  you 


238       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

care  about  scandal  and  poetry,  and  I  can  scarcely 
flatter  myself  that  my  frivolous  conversation  can  be 
very  entertaining  to  you.  My  tongue  runs  away 
with  me  sadly,  doesn't  it?  I  dare  say  you  remem- 
ber of  old  what  a  chatterbox  I  am.  Well,"  with  a 
sudden  change  of  tone,  "now  tell  me  what  really 
brought  you  to  see  me  ?  " 

Her  abrupt  question  had  the  intended  effect  of 
confusing  her  visitor  and  throwing  him  off  his 
guard,  while  her  ingenuous  smile  disarmed  him. 

"  Your  conversation  is  delightful  at  all  times, 
Lady  Prudence,"  he  began  hurriedly ;  "  so  much  in- 
formation—  such  —  ah  —  intimate  knowledge  of 
society  —  and  literature  is  as  rare  as  it  is  agreeable. 
Nothing  should  I  enjoy  so  much,  if  I  did  not  have 
my  head  so  full  of  a  subject  which  —  a  —  private 
family  affair  —  which  —  which  — " 

He  trailed  off  helplessly,  and  she  let  him  flounder 
until  his  embarrassment  ceased  to  amuse  her. 
Then  she  said  quietly : 

"  How  can  7  be  of  any  assistance  to  you,  Lord 
Beachcombe,  in  a  private  family  affair?  That 
seems  quite  out  of  my  province." 

"  Alas !  I  am  but  too  well  aware  that  I  have  for- 
feited all  right  to  ask  favors  of  you,  Viscountess," 
he  pleaded,  "  but  I  know  your  generous  nature  so 
well  that  I  am  emboldened  to  cast  myself  upon  your 
mercy." 

"  You  flatter  me ! "  she  cried,  with  her  dazzling 
smile.  "  What  can  my  generosity  and  mercy  do 
for  Lord  Beachcombe  ?  " 

"  I   scarcely   know.     'Tis  but   an  idea ;  a  mere 


AN  AFFAIR  OF  FAMILY  239 

catching  at  a  straw.  Still,  I  have  been  credibly 
informed  that  you  were  decoyed  last  night  to  the 
den  of  Robin  Freemantle,  the  highway-robber, 
whence,  with  unparalleled  courage,  you  rescued  the 
queen's  necklace — " 

"  Surely,"  she  interrupted,  with  some  impatience, 
"  Her  Majesty's  necklace  can  not  be  your  private 
family  affair  ?  " 

He  laughed  explosively.  "  Is  nothing  sacred  to 
you,  Lady  Prudence?  I  only  wished  to  felicitate 
you  upon  your  most  remarkable  adventure,  and  its 
brilliant  result,  and  to  implore  you  to  tell  me  if  you 
found  any  papers  or  documents  in  the  —  the  place 
where  the  necklace  was  hidden." 

"  Was  the  necklace  hidden  anywhere  ?  "  she  in- 
quired, in  a  tone  of  surprise.  "  I  did  not  find  it ; 
it  was  given  to  me — " 

"By  Robin  Freemantle  —  is  it  not  so?"  he 
eagerly  interrupted. 

"  Robin  Freemantle !  What  could  make  you 
imagine  that  he  gave  it  to  me?"  she  cried,  in  an 
accent  of  intense  astonishment. 

"  My  dear  Viscountess,  surely  you  are  aware 
that  this  rascal,  disguised  in  my  mask  and  domino, 
followed  you  the  whole  evening  of  the  masquerade- 
ball—" 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  "  cried  Prue,  with  the  prettiest 
imaginable  air  of  incredulity.  "  La !  what  strange 
things  happen  at  a  masquerade !  " 

"Possible?  "Tis  a  fact,"  replied  Beachcombe; 
"  and  'tis  easy  to  understand  that  having  fallen 
madly  in  love  with  you  — " 


240       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"The  outrageous  monster!"  shrieked  Prue. 

"  Even  monsters  are  human,  dear  Viscountess, 
and  who  can  wonder  that  the  beauty  that  has 
wrought  such  havoc  in  my  —  in  our  —  in  all  be- 
holders, should  have  smitten  this  fellow,  who  is 
reported  to  have  shadowed  your  footsteps  all  Mon- 
day night,  disguised  in  a  red  domino  and  mask. 
That  mask  and  domino  were  mine,  and  he  robbed 
me  of  them  in  the  same  house  by  the  river-side 
where  you  were  taken  last  night  A  den  of  thieves, 
Viscountess,  from  which  your  escape  unharmed  was 
hardly  less  than  a  miracle." 

"  My  escape  ?  Nobody  attempted  to  detain  me. 
In  fact  I  saw  no  one,  and  the  only  danger  I  escaped 
was  of  being  taken  prisoner  by  the  soldiers  who 
came  to  search  for  —  rebels,  I  understood  them  to 
say." 

"Rebels!  Ha!  ha!  'tis  true,  this  jailbird  has 
the  audacity  to  mix  himself  up  with  Jacobite  plots 
and  claim  that  he  only  steals  purses  on  the  chance 
of  their  containing  papers  of  value  to  the  Pretend- 
er's cause!  Speaking  of  papers  brings  me  back 
to  my  own  affairs.  When  this  villain  stole  my 
domino,  he  also  robbed  me  of  a  packet  of  papers. 
He  returned  the  domino  —  after  putting  it  to  the 
use  you  wot  of  —  but  the  .papers,  of  great  value, 
he  refused  to  give  up.  Is  it  possible,  dear  Lady 
Prudence,  that  while  you  were  in  this  robber's  den, 
you  saw  such  a  packet  ?  " 

Prue  shook  her  head.  "  The  soldiers  took  every- 
thing they  could  find  in  the  place,"  she  said  reflec- 


AN  AFFAIR  OF  FAMILY  241 

lively.  "HI  were  you,  I  would  make  inquiries  of 
them." 

"  I  have  done  so/*  he  said ;  "  but  they  brought 
away  no  such  packet" 

"  Perhaps  it  was  opened  and  they  have  the  con- 
tents." 

"  I  have  reason  to  think  that  unlikely,"  replied 
Beachcombe,  biting  his  lips  and  scowling. 

"  Or  destroyed  ?  "  she  suggested. 

"  No,  indeed;  if  I  could  hope  for  that  — ! " 

"What,  hope  for  the  destruction  of  valuable 
private  papers?  It  is  not  to  you,  then,  that  they 
are  valuable  ?  "  she  cried  shrewdly. 

He  started  and  eyed  her  suspiciously  for  a  mo- 
ment. "  To  no  one  else,"  he  replied  emphatically ; 
"  but  you  can  surely  understand,  Lady  Prudence, 
that  some  family  documents  would  be  better  de- 
stroyed than  in  the  hands  of  —  an  enemy." 

"  Was  Rob  —  Captain  Freemantle  —  your  ene- 
my ? "  she  asked  ingenuously.  "  It  seems  to  me 
that  some  one  —  who  can  it  have  been  ?  —  said  he 
was  your  relative.  He  calls  himself  De  Cliffe, 
doesn't  he?" 

Lord  Beachcombe  looked  at  her  again  with  grow- 
ing mistrust.  "  Did  he  have  the  impudence  to 
call  himself  De  Cliffe,  when  he  addressed  you  at 
the  ball,  Viscountess?"  he  demanded. 

"La!  no;  and  if  he  had  —  people  can  say  any- 
thing behind  a  mask,  without  fear  of  being  be- 
lieved," she  retorted,  laughing.  "  I  recollect  now 
that  'twas  Barbara  Sweeting,  when  she  told  us  of  the 


242       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

loss  of  the  queen's  necklace.  She  told  us  how  you 
had  obtained  his  pardon  when  condemned  to  be 
hanged,  and  afterward  set  the  soldiers  upon 
him—" 

Beachcombe  bent  his  sullen  glance  upon  the  car- 
pet, tracing  out  its  faded  pattern  with  his  Malacca 
cane.  "  Every  family  has  its  painful  secrets,  Lady 
Prudence,"  he  began,  "  and  this  packet  contains  one 
of  the  De  Cliffe  family  secrets  —  a  painful  one,  but 
not  important  —  oh  —  not  at  all  important.  Had 
the  soldiers  found  it,  it  would  have  been  an  easy 
matter  to  recover  it  —  a  few  guineas  at  most  — 
but  if  it  is  still  in  his  possession — " 

"  What  like  was  it  ?  "  Prue  inquired  listlessly, 
for  she  was  growing  weary  of  a  subject  that  had 
so  little  of  personal  interest  for  her. 

"  The  packet  ?  Oh !  a  small  thing,  about  the  size 
and  appearance  of  a  letter  —  a  billet-doux" — he 
forced  a  laugh  — "  sealed  and  addressed  to  Mistress 
—  Mistress  —  the  name  has  escaped  me  for  the 
moment,  but  'twas  in  care  of  the  Hostess  of  the 
Fox  and  Grapes" 

A  sudden  glow  of  color  swept  across  Prue's 
face.  In  her  joy  at  finding  that  the  source  of  many 
a  jealous  pang  was  not  Robin's  after  all,  it  is  to 
be  feared  that  she  quite  overlooked  the  gravity  of 
Lord  Beachcombe's  accusation.  What  did  it  mat- 
ter to  her,  whose  letter  it  was  —  if  it  were  not 
Robin's  —  written  to  another  woman  ?  She  had  an 
impulse  to  return  it,  and  her  hand  involuntarily 
rose  to  the  laces  about  her  neck,  where  she  had 
kept  it  concealed  except  when  she  thrust  it  under 


AN  AFFAIR  OF  FAMILY  243 

her  pillow,  where  it  lay  all  night  pervading  her 
dreams. 

She  checked  herself  quickly,  though  not  quite 
unobserved.  Beachcombe,  of  course,  did  not  sus- 
pect anything  so  preposterous  as  that  Prue  could 
be  interested  in  the  highwayman,  beyond  the  fact 
that  he  had  made  her  the  heroine  of  a  successful 
escapade,  but  her  change  of  countenance,  slight  as 
it  was,  and  her  gesture,  though  instantly  diverted 
to  a  readjustment  of  the  rose  at  her  breast,  did  not 
escape  his  keen  eye. 

"You  recognize  the  superscription?"  he  sug- 
gested insinuatingly.  "  You  saw  the  packet  in  his 
hands,  perhaps  ?  If  —  so  — " 

"  If  so,"  she  interrupted  quickly,  "  you  have  little 
chance  of  recovering  it,  since  'tis  said  he  was 
drowned  last  night." 

"If  I  could  only  believe  that  true!"  he  ex- 
claimed fiercely.  "  But  no !  he  escaped ;  there  can 
be  no  doubt  of  that;  in  fact  I  have  reason  to 
know  — " 

"  To  know  that  he  is  safe !  "  she  cried,  in  a  thrill- 
ing accent  of  unmistakable  joy.  "  Oh !  Heaven  — " 
then  suddenly  she  remembered  that  this  man  was 
his  enemy  and  desired  his  death.  She  stopped 
short  and  then  went  on  hurriedly,  conscious  that 
she  had  betrayed  herself  — "  Is  it  possible  that  this 
—  this  miscreant  is  still  alive  and  at  liberty?  " 

He  looked  at  her  dubiously,  but  although  a  grow- 
ing suspicion  that  she  was  acting  a  part  disturbed 
him,  it  did  not  yet  enlighten  him  with  any  ray  of 
the  truth. 


244       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  I  am  as  sure  of  it,  as  I  am  that  he  pursued 
you  at  the  ball,  under  cover  of  my  domino  —  and, 
for  his  punishment,  fell  in  love  with  you,"  he  said 
boldly. 

"  Fell  in  love  with  me !  "  cried  Prue  disdainfully. 
"Again,  sir?  How  dare  you  suggest  such  pre- 
sumption ! " 

"  The  fellow  certainly  does  not  lack  presump- 
tion," replied  Beachcombe,  "  and  as  to  his  having 
fallen  in  love  with  you,  did  he  not  prove  his  in- 
fatuation by  surrendering  his  priceless  booty  for 
the  sake  of  seeing  you  once  more,  even  at  the  peril 
of  his  life?  Believe  me,  dear  Viscountess,  the 
man  who  will  risk  so  much,  will  risk  still  more ;  you 
have  not  seen  the  last  of  Captain  Freemantle." 

"  You  think  notf  "  cried  Prue.  "  What  do  you 
suppose  he  will  do  next  ?  " 

"  Probably  he  will  repeat  the  tactics  .that  he  has 
already  pursued  with  such  enviable  success,"  said 
the  earl,  with  a  scarcely  perceptible  sneer,  "  and 
send  one  of  his  followers  to  your  ladyship  to  be- 
seech another  interview;  or  perhaps  he  will  come 
to  you  himself." 

"  Heaven  forbid !  "  cried  Prue.  "  I  trust  he  will 
not  attempt  anything  so  —  so  audacious." 

"  On  the  contrary,  my  dear  lady,"  replied  Beach- 
combe  blandly,  "  if  you  will  be  guided  by  me,  I 
think  we  can  turn  this  fellow's  impudence  to  our 
mutual  advantage.  /  most  sincerely  trust  that  he 
will  come  or  send  to  you,  because  now  he  has  been 
routed  out  of  his  house  by  the  river-side,  we  no 
longer  know  where  he  is  in  hiding.  He  is  not  like 


AN  AFFAIR  OF  FAMILY  245 

to  return  there,  but  gentlemen  of  his  profession 
have  many  haunts,  and  having  induced  your  lady- 
ship to  visit  one  of  them,  he  will,  no  doubt,  try 
another." 

"You  seem  to  forget  that  there  is  only  one 
queen's  necklace,"  she  cried  incautiously.  Then, 
conscious  of  her  indiscretion,  she  added  with  too 
eager  precipitation,  "  Besides,  Robin  Freemantle 
had  nothing  to  do  with  my  visit  to  that  house;  I 
was  guided  there — " 

"  By  a  messenger  sent  by  him,  as  I  understand," 
interrupted  Beachcombe.  "  'Tis  no  secret  that  your 
ladyship  was  induced  by  means  of  a  letter — " 

"  Secret !  I  should  think  not !  "  she  cried  petu- 
lantly, tossing  the  letter  upon  the  table  beside  him. 
"  All  the  town  seems  talking  about  it,  and  all  the 
world  may  read  it,  for  aught  I  care!  I  defy  the 
most  ingenious  scandal-monger  to  make  anything 
out  of  it." 

Lord  Beachcombe  took  it  up,  and  slowly  unfold- 
ing it,  read  it  carefully,  and  then  looked  up  with  a 
smile  of  triumph,  that  struck  a  sudden  chill  to 
Prue's  heart.  From  his  breast  he  drew  a  letter 
addressed  to  "  The  Right  Honorable  Lord  Beach- 
combe. At  Rodney  House,  Saint  James'  Park, 
London,"  and  placing  the  two  papers  side  by  side, 
contemplated  them  with  vindictive  satisfaction. 

"  There  can  be  no  further  doubt,"  he  said. 
"  See  for  yourself,  Viscountess,  the  writing  is 
identical." 

She  looked,  and  had  some  difficulty  in  maintain- 
ing her  indifference.  Furious  at  herself  for  having 


246       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

given  Beachcombe  an  opportunity  to  confirm  his 
suspicions,  she  had  just  enough  self-command  left 
to  see  that  it  was  a  case  of  qui  s'excuse  s'accuse, 
and  that  any  attempt  at  explanation  would  only 
plunge  her  into  an  inextricable  tangle  of  falsehood. 
So  she  merely  remarked,  in  as  casual  a  tone  as  she 
could  assume,  "  La  me !  how  curious ! "  and 
stretched  out  her  hand  for  her  own  document. 

Beachcombe  withheld  it.  "  Pray  permit  me  to 
retain  this,  Lady  Prudence,"  he  entreated.  "  It  is 
an  important  piece  of  evidence." 

"  More  important  to  me  than  to  your  lordship !  " 
she  retorted  sharply.  "  Be  good  enough  to  return 
it  to  me !  "  and  as  he  still  hesitated,  she  snatched 
it  from  his  grasp,  exclaiming  with  an  angry  laugh, 
"  Evidently  the  liking  for  other  people's  '  private 
papers '  runs  in  the  blood  of  the  De  Cliffes." 

With  a  savage  scowl,  Lord  Beachcombe  half -rose 
from  his  seat.  But  Prue  had  already  recovered 
from  her  spurt  of  passion,  and  with  the  prettiest 
deprecating  gesture  and  the  most  alluring  smile  she 
could  call  up  at  a  moment's  notice,  she  stemmed  the 
tide  of  his  wrath. 

"  Oh !  forgive  me,  Lord  Beachcombe,"  she  said 
sweetly.  "  I  am  not  used  to  be  so  cross-questioned 
and  my  temper,  as  you  know  well,  is  none  of  the 
most  patient.  Do  not  let  us  quarrel  over  such  a 
trifle  as  a  fancied  resemblance  between  two  scraps 
of  writing." 

"  'Tis  no  fancied  resemblance,  Lady  Prudence," 
said  Beachcombe  doggedly. 

"  Then  if  it  is  a  real  one,  would  it  not  be  better 


AN  AFFAIR  OF  FAMILY  247 

for  us  to  see  how  we  can  turn  it  to  our  mutual 
advantage,  than  to  wrangle  over  it  ?  "  she  suggested. 
Beachcombe's  brow  cleared  at  her  conciliatory  tone, 
and  his  half-awakened  suspicions  melted  under  the 
influence  of  a  sweet  and  beaming  smile. 

"  There  is  nothing  easier  than  to  turn  it  to  our 
advantage  and  his  destruction,  dear  Viscountess,  if 
you  will  be  guided  by  me,"  he  said  eagerly.  "  If 
Captain  Freemantle  should  make  another  attempt 
to  see  you  —  as  I  feel  convinced  he  will  —  surely 
woman's  wit  can  manage  to  bring  us  face  to  face, 
or  at  least  to  let  me  know  where  he  is  to  be  found. 
I  am  convinced  that  I  could  show  him  excellent 
reasons  for  giving  up  those  papers,  which  would 
prove  dangerously  compromising  —  to  him  —  if 
discovered  in  his  possession.  You  could  secure 
yourself  from  further  molestation  and  promote  the 
ends  of  justice  in  this  way,  and  place  me  under  a 
lifelong  obligation." 

"  And  how  about  Captain  Freemantle  ? "  sug- 
gested Prue.  "  Would  his  obligation  to  me  also 
be  lifelong?" 

"  Why  —  no  doubt,"  he  replied,  with  a  sinister 
smile. 

"  Well,  Lord  Beachcombe,"  said  Prue,  with  a 
charming  smile,  "  I  will  give  your  message  to  this 
Knight  of  the  Road  —  when  I  see  him  —  and  I 
doubt  not  he  will  wait  upon  your  lordship  to 
receive  the  benefits  you  are  so  anxious  to  bestow 
upon  him.  Oh!  you  need  not  thank  me"  (he  had 
no  intention  of  doing  so)  ;  "I  am  always  glad  to 
oblige  an  old  friend.  And  pray  do  not  hurry  away ; 


248       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

I  hear  the  voice  of  my  gossip,  Barbara  Sweeting, 
and  presently  the  rest  of  London  will  flock  round 
me  to  repeat  what  every  one  is  saying  about  me,  and 
find  out  something  new  to  tell  in  their  turn.  You, 
who  have  given  me  so  much  information,  can  help 
me  to  entertain  them." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

IN  A  CHAIRMAN'S  LIVERY 

LADY  BARBARA  rustled  into  the  room  in  the 
most  expansive  of  hoops  and  the  loftiest  of 
heads  of  lace  and  feathers,  the  height,  literally,  of 
the  mode. 

"  Prue,  you  sly  minx,  I  have  come  to  give  you 
the  scolding  you  deserve,"  she  began,  and  half- 
mirthful,  half -reproachful,  was  about  to  embrace 
her  when  her  glance  fell  upon  Lord  Beachcombe. 
She  started  back  and  turned  her  eyes  from  one  to 
the  other  with  exaggerated  disapproval,  behind 
which  lurked  the  excitement  of  the  keen  hunter  on 
a  promising  trail. 

Beachcombe's  dark  face  flushed  with  an  embar- 
rassment that  he  vainly  attempted  to  conceal  under 
the  elaborate  politeness  of  his  greeting,  but  Prue, 
all  innocent  smiles,  and  thoroughly  enjoying  a  situ- 
ation which  put  her  inquisitor  to  confusion,  flew  into 
her  dear  friend's  arms. 

"  How  are  you,  dearest  Bab?  "  she  cried.  "  I  am 
simply  perishing  for  a  long,  long  talk  with  you. 
Oh !  I  have  so  much  to  tell  you  — " 

"  Not  so  much  as  you  think,  perhaps,  wicked 
one,"  retorted  Barbara,  still  reproachfully,  "  but  I 
own  I  am  dying  for  the  key  to  your  mysterious 
adventures." 

249 


250       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  Have  you,  too,  come  to  cross-question  me  about 
last  night  ?  "  cried  Prue  petulantly.  "  Before  I  was 
out  of  my  bed,  the  house  was  besieged.  Ah! 
here  is  Peggie,  who  can  tell  you  more  about  my 
visitors  than  I  can,  for  half  of  them  came  while 
I  was  yet  asleep." 

"  "Pis  not  your  visitors  I  want  to  hear  about, 
Prue,  but  yourself.  To  think,  that  with  such  a 
frolic  to  the  fore,  my  Prue  should  have  left  me 
without  a  hint  of  what  was  happening!  How  can 
I  ever  forgive  it?  " 

"  Lady  Brooke  should  be  pardoned  all  things  for 
the  sake  of  her  heroism,"  said  Beachcombe,  with 
cold  irony.  "  Yet  it  seems  a  pity  that  she  should 
have  braved  alone  the  dangers  so  many  of  her 
friends  would  willingly  have  shared." 

"You  too?"  cried  Barbara,  raising  hands  and 
eyes  appealingly  to  the  offended  heavens.  "  Can 
neither  matrimony  nor  paternity  cure  the  Prue- 
f ever  ?  —  nor  even  phlebotomy  at  the  hands  of  so 
skilful  a  chirurgeon  as  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert? 
Pray,  if  one  may  venture  to  inquire,  what  may  be 
your  interest  in  the  recovery  of  the  queen's  neck- 
lace, since  surely  it  can  not  be  either  friendship  or 
love?" 

The  look  he  gave  her  certainly  suggested  neither 
of  these  emotions,  but  his  voice  was  under  better 
control. 

"  My  interest,  dear  Lady  Barbara,  is  so  far  self- 
ish that  as  the  robbery  was  perpetrated  under  cover 
of  my  domino,  I  should  certainly  have  wished  to 


IN  A  CHAIRMAN'S  LIVERY         251 

take  part  in  the   finding  of  the  jewel  —  and  the 
thief." 

"  La ! "  cried  Barbara,  smiling  enigmatically. 
"  How  unfortunate  that  the  necklace  has  been  re- 
turned and  the  thief  arrested  without  your  assist- 
ance!" 

"  Arrested !  "  her  auditors  exclaimed  together, 
but  in  very  different  tones.  Lord  Beachcombe's 
vibrated  with  gratified  hatred,  Prue's  trembled 
with  dismay.  The  color  dropped  from  her  cheek, 
and  but  for  Peggie's  promptitude,  her  agitation 
would  have  betrayed  her  beyond  concealment.  She, 
however,  had  been  hovering  on  the  threshold  try- 
ing to  attract  her  cousin's  attention,  and  now  ran 
forward  with  great  vivacity,  and  by  a  torrent  of 
eager  questions,  drew  attention  to  herself  and  gave 
Prue  time  to  recover  from  her  perturbation,  though 
not  before  it  had  been  observed  with  malicious  in- 
ference by  Lord  Beachcombe. 

"  Why,  truly,  I  scarcely  expected  to  bring  news 
to  the  fountain-head,"  Barbara  ran  on.  "  Yet  'tis 
a  fact,  my  poor  Prue,  that  your  romance  has  a 
very  commonplace  finale.  'Tis  no  dashing  exploit 
of  a  bold  highwayman,  after  all,  no  hairbreadth 
escape  from  a  robber's  den,  but  merely  the  outcome 
of  an  intrigue  between  a  chambermaid  and  a 
scrivener's  clerk;  and  a  fit  of  vulgar  jealousy  has 
pricked  the  bubble  of  your  romance,  my  love!  " 

Greatly  to  the  astonishment  of  both  her  visitors, 
Prue's  face,  instead  of  falling  in  dismay,  became 
irradiated  with  the  loveliest  expression  of  joy.  Her 


252       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

eyes,  softly  luminous,  swam  in  a  rapturous  mist 
and  dimples  played  in  the  damask  that  suddenly 
drove  the  pallor  from  her  cheek.  Such  a  transfor- 
mation could  hardly  fail  to  astonish  even  those  most 
accustomed  to  the  swift  variations  of  this  creature 
of  caprice. 

"  Tell  us  quickly,  dear  Barbara,"  she  cried,  with 
a  little  tremolo  of  excitement  in  her  voice.  "  You 
know  'twas  near  midnight  when  the  duchess 
brought  me  home,  and  I  was  so  tired  I  slept  until 
noon — -all  my  visitors  this  morning  have  come  to 
seek  information  —  not  to  impart  it.  Do,  pray,  tell 
me  what  has  happened." 

"  La !  Prue,  I  thought  you  would  be  mortified 
to  death  at  such  a  tame  ending  to  your  romantic 
adventure,  and  you  seem  delighted,"  replied  Bar- 
bara, with  pique.  "  One  of  the  serving-wenches 
at  Marlborough  House,  finding  the  royal  tiring- 
room  for  a  moment  unguarded,  took  her  sweet- 
heart in,  and  not  content  with  gazing,  they  must 
needs  carry  their  audacity  to  the  point  of  fingering 
Her  Majesty's  toilet-articles,  and  so  came  upon  the 
necklace  in  its  case,  which  so  dazzled  them,  I  pre- 
sume, that  they  turned  crazy,  and  hearing  voices 
at  one  door,  ran  out  of  another  and  found  them- 
selves back  in  the  servants'  quarters  with  the  neck- 
lace in  their  possession.  The  girl  swears  they  did 
not  mean  to  steal  it,  but  did  not  know  how  to  get 
it  back  unobserved,  and  finally  the  lover,  in  a  panic, 
fled  from  the  house,  carrying  the  perilous  pelf  with 
him." 

"  A  probable  story,  indeed !  "  cried  Beachcombe 


IN  A  CHAIRMAN'S  LIVERY         253 

scoffingly.  "  It  might  account  for  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  jewel,  but  scarcely  for  its  restora- 
tion." 

"Oh!  that  was  a  case  of  conscience,  a  thing 
quite  incomprehensible  of  course  to  an  '  esprit  fort,' 
such  as  your  lordship,"  retorted  Barbara.  "  The 
girl  suffered  tortures,  it  appears,  during  which  she 
was  a  dozen  times  on  the  point  of  confessing,  but 
hesitated  for  fear  of  incriminating  her  lover. 
Then  came  the  story  of  the  return  of  the  necklace, 
which,  by  the  time  it  reached  the  still-room,  had 
grown  to  the  wildest  of  marvels.  After  that,  no 
one  seems  to  know  exactly  what  happened,  but 
possibly,  between  fear  of  her  own  part  in  the  affair 
and  rage  at  the  treachery  of  her  lover,  the  wretched 
creature  lost  what  few  senses  she  had  and  actually 
forced  her  way  into  the  presence  of  the  duchess, 
where  she  groveled  on  the  floor,  confessing  and 
accusing  and  Lord  knows  what  besides,  and  was 
carried  out  raving  and  foaming  at  the  mouth." 

"  And  so  she  confessed  that  she  and  her  lover 
had  stolen,  or  at  any  rate  carried  off  the  neck- 
lace," commented  Prue  thoughtfully. 

"  Then  how  do  you  account  for  its  restoration 
by  Robin  Freemantle  ?  "  Beachcombe  inquired,  with 
his  stealthy  eyes  upon  her. 

"  Do  you  persist,  even  now,  in  connecting  him 
with  this  affair?"  she  retorted,  facing  him  defi- 
antly. "  For  my  part,  I  am  now  thoroughly  con- 
vinced that  it  was  a  very  vulgar  matter  and  that 
I  have  been  made  a  fool  and  a  tool  of  by  a  pack 
of  low  wretches.  Do  not  let  any  one  who  does  not 


254       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

wish  to  offend  me,  ever  mention  my  part  in  it 
again." 

"  On  the  contrary  — "  Barbara  was  beginning, 
when  Peggie,  from  the  window,  uttered  a  cry  of 
admiration. 

"  Is  that  your  new  chair  at  the  door,  Barbara?  " 
she  cried.  "  Sure,  'tis  the  finest  in  town !  " 

"  Ah !  I  had  for  the  moment  forgotten  —  'twas 
but  to  display  it  I  came  here  this  afternoon  — 
to  show  that  and  to  scold  Prue  for  a  faithless 
friend." 

They  all  followed  her  to  the  window,  and  in  the 
street  below  stood  a  most  superb  sedan-chair,  all 
carving  and  gilding,  lined  and  curtained  with  crim- 
son, and  borne  by  four  strapping  footmen  in  liveries 
to  match. 

"  'Tis  truly  magnificent,"  cried  Lord  Beach- 
combe.  "  All  the  world  admires  the  taste  of  Lady 
Barbara  Sweeting,  but  this  time  she  has  given  us 
something  to  marvel  at." 

While  he  was  speaking,  Peggie  plucked  at  Prue's 
sleeve  and  murmured  in  her  ear,  "  In  the  library," 
with  a  glance  and  gesture  that  needed  no  inter- 
pretation. With  an  immense  effort  of  self-con- 
trol, Prue  stopped  long  enough  to  compliment 
her  friend  on  her  new  and  gorgeous  equipage,  and 
then  slipped  away,  with  her  heart  throbbing  in  her 
throat,  and  ran  down-stairs,  to  find  Robin  awaiting 
her,  rather  inefficiently  disguised  in  a  gold-laced 
velvet  coat  and  a  voluminous  periwig,  in  which  his 
marked  resemblance  to  Lord  Beachcombe  struck 
Prue  with  absolute  consternation. 


IN  A  CHAIRMAN'S  LIVERY         255 

"  Robin,  Robin !  "  she  cried,  when  the  door  was 
closed,  "  how  could  you  dream  of  coming  here,  of 
all  places  ?  " 

"  I  have  dreamed  of  nothing  else,"  he  replied. 
His  eyes  were  glowing  and  his  whole  countenance 
transformed  by  a  sublime  transport  of  adoration. 
Few  men  are  capable  of  this  ecstasy  and  few 
women  privileged  to  behold  it;  none,  it  may  be 
conjectured,  can  resist  its  enchantment.  Prue, 
trembling  with  a  strange  joy,  yielded  to  the  arms 
of  her  lover-husband,  and  there  forgot  everything 
else  for  a  few  blissful  moments. 

"  Dearest,  you  must  not  stay  here,"  she  mur- 
mured, when  he  released  her  lips,  "your  worst 
enemy  is  in  this  house."  And  in  a  few  rapid  words 
she  told  him  of  Lord  Beachcombe's  search  after 
the  papers,  his  prediction  of  Robin's  visit  and  his 
suggestion  of  using  her  as  a  bait  to  the  trap  he 
proposed  setting  for  him. 

"  Go,  now  —  at  once,  Robin,  my  husband,  and 
send  me  word  where  to  come  to  you ;  it  is  safer  so. 
Oh!  I  will  come!  you  need  not  fear  —  you  see,  I 
do  not  even  ask  if  you  want  me  to!  Send  for  me, 
and  be  not  too  tardy  about  it  — " 

"  Tardy,  Heart  of  my  heart,"  he  murmured,  with 
his  lips  to  hers.  "  Every  moment  I  spend  away 
from  you  is  an  eternity  in  purgatory.  If  I  must 
go,  tell  me  that  you  love  me,  that  I  may  have 
something  to  live  upon  until  we  meet  again." 

"  Oh !  I  love  you,  Robin  —  indeed  I  love  you  — 
yet  I  take  blame  to  myself  for  telling  you  so  often, 
who  have  never  yet  said  it  to  me.  Some  day  you 


256       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

will,  mayhap,  remind  me  that  I  did  all  the  wooing, 
and  all  the  marrying,  too!  Nay,  swear  to  me, 
Robin,  that  thou'lt  forget  that  ever  I  asked  thee  to 
marry  me — •"  and  she  hid  her  face,  all  blushing 
with  love  and  shame,  upon  his  shoulder. 

"Forget!"  he  exclaimed.  "If  ever  I  forget,  it 
will  be  because  my  body  is  dust  and  my  soul  in 
torment !  Yet  I  can  not  believe  it.  I  fear  to  close 
my  eyes  in  sleep,  lest  when  I  wake  I  shall  find  I 
have  been  dreaming  —  dreaming  that  these  arms 
have  held  the  dearest  and  sweetest  woman  in  all  the 
world  and  these  most  unworthy  lips  have  been  per- 
mitted to  offer  her  worship.  Oh!  I  scarcely  dare 
to  say,  '  I  love  you.'  I  would  I  knew  some  other 
word  that  could  express  the  adoration  that  fills  my 
heart  to  bursting !  I  loved  you  the  moment  my  eyes 
fell  on  your  angel  face  —  from  the  moment  I 
kissed  you.  Oh!  how  dared  I  kiss  you?  Yet  I 
was  punished!  You  can  not  imagine  the  fire  that 
kiss  left  in  my  veins  —  the  unappeasable  longing  in 
my  heart !  "  His  lips  were  seeking  hers  again,  but 
she  thrust  him  away  with  tender  vehemence. 

"  No,  no,"  she  cried,  "  don't  stop  to  kiss  me  now, 
but  go,  while  yet  the  way  is  open." 

She  had  her  hand  upon  the  lock  when  it  turned 
gently  and  the  door  opened  a  few  inches.  The 
eyes  of  Lord  Beachcombe  and  Robin  met  over 
Prue's  head  and  the  flash  of  mutual  animosity 
struck  through  her  like  an  electric  current.  She 
glanced  quickly  from  one  to  the  other,  and  the 
secret  of  their  kinship  revealed  itself  so  convinc- 


IN  A  CHAIRMAN'S  LIVERY         257 

ingly  in  the  two  faces  that  she  did  not  even  feel 
surprised.  It  seemed  as  if  she  must  always  have 
known  that  they  were  brothers. 

The  door  closed  again  so  swiftly  that  the  whole 
incident  was  over  before  any  one  could  have  drawn 
a  breath. 

"  It  is  too  late ! "  whispered  Prue,  then  threw 
herself  into  Robin's  arms  in  a  kind  of  desperation 
that  was  half  rapture.  "  He  will  betray  you,  but 
they  must  take  me  too ;  I  will  not  be  separated  from 
you." 

"  He  will  not  come  here  for  me,"  said  Robin, 
cool  and  practical  in  the  presence  of  danger.  "  It 
will  be  best  for  me  to  go  at  once,  before  he  has 
time  to  call  assistance.  I  can  surely  beat  off 
half-a-dozen  of  his  lackeys  single-handed.  If  I 
give  him  time  to  set  a  posse  of  constables  in  wait 
for  me,  I  may  have  more  trouble  with  them.  Fare- 
well, Heart  of  gold;  I  will  send  a  safe  messenger 
to  you  soon.  Oh !  I  must  see  you  again  very  soon ; 
I  have  so  much  to  say  to  you  — " 

"  Yet,  wait,"  said  Prue,  detaining  him.  "  Let 
me  think;  I  would  not  risk  your  life  unnecessarily. 
Stay  here  and  I  will  return  instantly." 

She  was  back  in  a  few  minutes  accompanied  by 
a  gorgeous  vision  of  rich  brocade  and  costly  lace. 
These  embellishments  fitly  set  off  a  stately  figure 
that  had  once  been  slenderer  and  a  charming  face 
that  showed  few  of  the  ravages  of  time  and,  in- 
deed, had  more  than  replaced  the  graces  of  youth 
by  the  archness  and  gaiety  time  had  but  enhanced. 


258       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  Barbara,  this  is  my  friend  Captain  de  Cliffe," 
said  Prue.  "  We  met  in  the  North  Country. 
Permit  me  to  present  him  to  you." 

Lady  Barbara's  evident  astonishment  did  not 
affect  the  ceremoniousness  of  her  deep  curtsey,  to 
which  Robin,  not  less  surprised  by  Prue's  man- 
oeuver,  responded  with  a  gravely  respectful  salute. 

"  Methinks  I  have  heard  of  your  meeting  with 
this  gentleman  —  on  Bleakmoor,"  said  Barbara, 
with  twinkling  eyes.  "  I,  myself,  claim  a  distant 
kinship  with  the  De  Cliffes;  what  branch  do  you 
belong  to,  Captain?  " 

"I  am  an  unworthy  twig  of  the  senior  branch," 
replied  Robin. 

"  Ah !  that  accounts  for  your  strong  resemblance 
to  the  late  earl,"  said  Barbara,  seating  herself  near 
the  window,  and  so  compelling  him  to  face  the 
light,  while  she  coolly  scrutinized  him.  "  And  if 
the  present  earl  were  a  handsome  fellow,  you 
would  be  like  enough  for  brothers.  As  it  is  — " 

"  As  it  is,  he  hates  me  like  a  brother,"  said  Robin 
negligently,  "  and  in  that  the  resemblance  between 
us  is  not  to  be  denied." 

"  Dear  Barbara,"  cried  Prue,  "  let  me  make  a 
confession  to  you.  Captain  de  Cliffe  is  also  known 
as  Robin  Freemantle,  the  highwayman." 

"  And  when  I  told  you  so  t'other  day,  you  pre- 
tended to  be  surprised,"  cried  Barbara  reproach- 
fully. "  Little  did  I  ever  expect  that  my  Prue 
would  so  deceive  me." 

"  'Twas  not  to  deceive  you,  dear  Barbara,  but 
a  roomful  of  curious  gossips,  all  ready  to  fall  upon 


IN  A  CHAIRMAN'S  LIVERY         259 

poor  little  me  and  tear  my  secret  to  shreds.  Scold 
me  as  much  as  you  will,  some  other  time,  dearest 
Bab,  but  help  us  now !  " 

"  Us  ?  "  cried  Barbara,  turning  her  shrewd  eyes 
from  one  to  the  other  with  sudden  enlightenment. 
"  Aha !  "  she  smiled  knowingly,  and  Prue,  blush- 
ing and  faltering,  found  no  word  to  explain  away 
her  unvoiced  suspicion.  "  I  am  glad,  at  any  rate," 
she  went  on  rather  dryly,  "  to  find  Sir  Geoffrey's 
nose  out  of  joint!  But  if  you  want  help,  why  did 
you  not  ask  Beachcombe,  who  seems  all  too  willing 
to  return  to  your  feet,  and  who  has  already,  if  I 
am  not  mistaken,  once  rescued  this  gentleman  from 
Newgate?" 

"  Barbara,  he  wishes  nothing  so  much  as  to  get 
him  back  there.  Scarce  an  hour  ago  he  proposed 
to  me  to  decoy  him  here  that  he  might  seize  him 
and  rob  him  of  valuable  papers.  No  doubt  he 
would  kill  him  if  he  resisted,  or  throw  him  into 
prison.  So  now,  dear  Barbara,  help  me  to  devise 
some  way  of  getting  him  away  from  here  unob- 
served." 

"That  is  not  difficult,"  Barbara  assured  her. 
"  My  new  chair  is  amply  large  for  two.  If  Cap- 
tain de  Cliffe  will  give  me  his  arm,  we  will  walk 
out  of  this  house  together  and  he  can  escort  me 
home." 

"  But,  Bab,  if  that  wretch  is  on  the  watch,  he 
may  attack  you.  Remember,  he  has  seen  Rob  — 
Captain  de  Cliffe  here,  and  if  you  had  seen  his  face 
as  I  did,  when  he  looked  in  at  the  door!  Oh,  you 
may  be  sure  that  even  you  would  not  be  safe  at 


260       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

his  hands,  if  you  stood  between  him  and  the  object 
of  his  hatred !  " 

"  I  have  a  better  plan,"  said  Barbara,  laughing 
mischievously,  "  and  one  that  promises  more  diver- 
sion. You  are  tall,  Captain,"  she  looked  him  over 
with  an  approving  eye,  "a  proper  man,  i'  faith! 
Do  you  think  you  could  be  trusted  to  take  the  place 
of  one  of  my  chairmen?  They  are  all  six-foot  men, 
chosen  to  match  in  size;  I  am  very  fastidious  in 
such  matters.  Three  are  new  to  my  service,  but 
the  fourth  is  a  faithful  lad,  who  can  be  trusted  to 
hold  his  tongue.  In  his  livery  you  can  defy  my 
Lord  Beachcombe  and  his  myrmidons  and  walk 
away  under  their  noses." 

This  proposition  was  quite  to  Prue's  taste  and 
Robin,  who  was  too  anxious  to  get  away  without 
causing  her  any  serious  trouble,  to  care  much  in 
what  guise  he  fared  forth,  gratefully  consented. 
So  James  was  despatched  to  call  Lady  Barbara's 
man  Thomas,  to  whom  she  conveyed  her  commands 
in  the  fewest  possible  words,  and  the  two  ladies 
withdrew  while  the  exchange  of  costume  was  ef- 
fected, and  the  stolid  Thomas,  too  well  accustomed 
to  his  mistress'  whims  to  raise  the  least  question, 
resigned  his  crimson  coat  and  gold-laced  hat,  his 
silk  stockings  and  buckled  shoes,  and  even  his 
powdered  bob-wig,  to  the  new  chairman. 

By  this  time  Prue's  usual  afternoon  court  was 
assembling  in  far  greater  numbers  than  the  little 
house  could  easily  accommodate,  and  the  rustle  of 
brocades  and  the  ripple  of  gay  voices  filled  the  air. 
Outside  the  library  Barbara  hesitated.  "  I  think  I 


IN  A  CHAIRMAN'S  LIVERY         261 

will  not  go  back  to  your  visitors,  Prue,  my  tongue 
is  apt  to  slip  out  of  my  control  and  I  might  say 
something  compromising,"  she  said.  Then,  seeing 
the  door  open  into  the  empty  dining-room,  she  went 
in,  drawing  Prue  after  her. 

"  Is  it  serious,  child  ? "  she  demanded,  with  a 
hand  on  each  shoulder  and  Prue's  eyes  vainly 
attempting  to  meet  her  searching  gaze  unflinch- 
ingly. "  Is  it  possible  that  the  heart  that  has  re- 
sisted a  hundred  and  one  skilled  assaults  can  have 
surrendered  to  the  *  Stand  and  deliver '  of  a  brig- 
and? Come,  tell  me  everything!  —  if  you  are  in 
love  with  him — " 

"  Oh !  no,  no ! "  cried  Prue,  shrinking  in  hor- 
ror from  the  extent  of  the  revelation  she  might  be 
drawn  into  if  she  began  with  such  an  admission. 
"  Love !  what  nonsense  —  for  a  highwayman  ?  " 
and  she  laughed,  though  with  less  than  her  usual 
abandon. 

"  Yet  he  is  a  charming  fellow,"  said  Barbara  in- 
sinuatingly. "  He  might  have  caught  your  fancy 
—  but,  in  fact,"  in  a  gay  tone,  "  I'm  glad  he  has 
not,  for  to  own  the  truth,  I  am  more  than  half 
disposed  to  carry  off  your  highwayman  and  hold 
him  prisoner  for  a  day  or  two.  'Twill  be  safer  for 
him  and  his  adventures  will  surely  keep  me  enter- 
tained for  a  while  —  and,  who  knows  ?  I  might 
amuse  myself  by  making  a  conquest  of  this  gentle 
savage !  " 

"  Oh !  Barbara,  fie ! "  cried  Prue,  to  whom  the 
picture  of  Robin  under  the  influence  of  another 
woman's  fascinations  was  far  from  agreeable. 


262       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  It  is  condescension  enough  for  you  to  save  his 
life—" 

"  Condescension  i'  faith,"  laughed  Barbara. 
"  At  least  I  can  promise  that  my  condescension 
shall  end  —  where  charity  begins  —  at  home !  Eh, 
Prue?  Well,  I  hear  my  new  retainer  in  the  hall, 
so  fare  thee  well,  dear  Gossip,"  and  with  a  kiss  on 
either  cheek,  she  rustled  out  and  was  respectfully 
assisted  into  her  chair  by  Robin,  who  then  took 
Thomas'  vacant  place  at  the  rear  pole. 

The  street  was  thronged  with  the  equipages  of 
Prue's  visitors  and,  mingling  with  the  crowd, 
Lord  Beachcombe,  closely  followed  by  half-a-dozen 
lusty  fellows,  exchanged  greetings  here  and  there, 
without  relaxing  his  vigilant  watch  upon  the  en- 
trance. He  scarcely  vouchsafed  a  glance  toward 
Lady  Barbara,  and  as  she  swung  past  him  in  her 
gorgeous  sedan-chair,  with  her  four  tall  chairmen 
at  full  trot,  she  was  so  elated  that  she  had  half  a 
mind  to  stop  and  speak  to  him.  But  wisdom  pre- 
vailed with  her,  for  once,  and  she  contented  her- 
self with  waving  her  jeweled  fan  in  saucy  greeting. 
He  responded  with  a  careless  wave  of  the  hand, 
and  the  next  minute  she  was  out  of  sight. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  PARSON  SELLS  A  SECRET 

AS  the  afternoon  progressed,  Lady  Drumloch's 
little  house  filled  to  overflowing.  Reports  of 
the  adventures  of  the  diamond  necklace  had 
brought  a  crowd  of  flattering,  envious  and  above 
all,  curious  acquaintances  round  the  dainty  table 
where  the  cousins  dispensed  chocolate  and  coquetry. 
Some  vague  rumors  had  reached  Lady  Drum- 
loch,  through  Lowton,  of  a  nocturnal  exploit  by 
which  Prue  had  distinguished  herself  in  some  mys- 
terious way,  but  she  was  in  absolute  ignorance 
of  the  actual  facts,  and  had  great  difficulty  in  con- 
trolling her  own  curiosity,  while  maintaining  an 
appearance  of  urbane  indifference  under  the  cross- 
fire of  questions,  congratulations,  thinly  veiled  cen- 
sure and  half -incredulous  comment  by  which  the 
guests  displayed  their  varied  interest.  It  was  in 
vain  that  Peggie  used  her  ready  wit  to  turn  the 
conversation  into  safer  channels;  in  vain  that  Prue 
vowed  the  whole  thing  a  ridiculous  exaggera- 
tion, and  refused  to  be  made  a  heroine  or  to  be 
coaxed  or  goaded  into  compromising  admissions. 
The  necklace,  she  declared,  had  been  accidentally 
carried  away  by  some  person  employed  at  Marl- 
borough  House,  who,  becoming  terrified  by  the 
possession  of  the  dangerous  treasure  and  wishing 

263 


264       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

to  be  rid  of  it,  had  conveyed  it  to  her  as  a  sure 
means  of  getting  it  back  to  the  rightful  owner; 
that  she  had  brought  it  to  the  duchess  and  to- 
gether they  had  returned  it  to  the  queen;  and 
there,  so  far  as  she  was  concerned,  Prue  regarded 
the  incident  as  closed,  and  was  quite  tired  of 
answering  silly  questions  and  explaining  things 
that  really  needed  no  explanation.  Would  they 
please  not  worry  her  about  it  any  more,  but  talk 
of  something  else? 

Still,  it  was  not  easy  to  change  the  current  of 
conversation,  for  each  new-comer  had  some  fresh 
rumor  to  be  contradicted,  some  new  extravagance 
to  be  laughed  at  or  some  malicious  inference  to  be 
drawn  from  Prue's  unwonted  reserve,  and  her 
grandmother's  ill-concealed  annoyance. 

But  if  the  afternoon  wore  away  slowly  to  Peggie 
and  Prue,  it  was  a  long-drawn  torture  to  Lord 
Beachcombe,  whose  watch  upon  the  house  was 
never  relaxed,  notwithstanding  the  gibes  of  the  gay 
throng  as  it  passed  in  and  out,  marveling  what 
kept  Prue's  quondam  lover  hanging  round  Lady 
Drumloch's  door,  and  the  rising  murmurs  of  his 
followers,  whose  numbers  had  been  reinforced  by 
numerous  loungers  on  the  lookout  for  mischief  or 
profit. 

A  constant  stream  of  guests,  arriving  and  depart- 
ing, passed  before  him;  still  no  one  at  all  resem- 
bling Robin  Freemantle  appeared.  Dainty  ladies 
in  brocade  and  jewels  passed  in  and  out  of  the 
door,  their  servants  being  obliged  to  force  a  way 
for  them  through  the  gathering  crowd  of  idlers. 


THE  PARSON  SELLS  A  SECRET     265 

Beaux  as  dainty  and  as  gaily  costumed,  handed 
them  into  their  equipages,  lisping  quaint  oaths  and 
shaking  their  jeweled  canes  in  the  faces  of  the 
overbold;  still  no  Robin  Freemantle.  One  after 
another  the  carriages  rolled  away,  the  chairmen 
trotted  off  with  their  fair  burdens,  the  casual  on- 
lookers dispersed,  and  left  the  street  to  Lord  Beach- 
combe  and  his  noisy  retinue. 

At  last  he  could  control  his  impatience  no  longer. 
Hurriedly  directing  his  men  to  keep  vigilant  watch 
for  their  quarry,  he  once  more  knocked  for  admit- 
tance and  demanded  a  word  with  Lady  Brooke. 
James,  the  imperturbable,  would  have  conducted 
him  up  to  the  drawing-room,  but  he  stalked  haught- 
ily to  the  library  and  abruptly  opened  the  door — 
to  find  the  room  deserted. 

Prue  soon  appeared,  all  smiles  and  artless  witch- 
eries, quite  determined  to  see  nothing  strange 
in  this  untimely  visit,  and  as  ready  to  gossip  as 
though  she  had  nothing  more  serious  on  her  mind 
than  the  latest  epigram  and  the  newest  scandal. 
Lord  Beachcombe,  however,  was  in  too  deadly 
earnest  to  encourage  her  frivolity,  and  with  very 
little  circumlocution  inquired  for  Captain  Free- 
mantle. 

"  Captain  —  Freemantle  — ?  "  she  questioned, 
with  a  puzzled  air.  "  Do  you  mean  the  highway- 
man? La!  how  should  I  know  anything  about 
him  ?  You  must  be  dreaming,  Lord  Beachcombe !  " 

"  I  am  not  dreaming,  Viscountess,"  he  said  re- 
sentfully. "  Nor  was  I  dreaming  a  couple  of  hours 
ago,  when,  quite  by  accident,  I  saw  him  here," 


266       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

he  indicated  the  spot  by  a  motion  of  his  hand,  "  in 
close  —  ahem  —  conversation  with  your  ladyship." 

"  With  me  ?  "  she  cried.  "  Oh !  you  are  in  error. 
The  gentleman  you  spied  upon  —  pardon,  I  mean 
accidentally  interrupted  —  is  your  relative,  Captain 
de  Cliffe  — " 

"  The  difference  is  merely  nominal,"  he  inter- 
posed, with  a  sour  smile.  "  It  is  of  great  impor- 
tance that  I  should  have  a  few  words  with  that  — 
gentleman." 

"  Oh !  how  unfortunate,"  she  cried,  with  pro- 
found regret ;  "  he  went  away  hours  ago  —  oh ! 
ages  ago ! " 

"  Went  away  ?  Impossible !  he  could  not  have 
left  this  house  without  my  knowledge,"  exclaimed 
Beachcombe,  too  thoroughly  roused  for  dissimula- 
tion. 

"  Indeed !  "  said  Prue,  ominously  gentle.  "  May 
I  inquire  since  when  you  took  upon  yourself  the 
right  to  observe  the  movements  of  my  guests?  " 

He  pulled  himself  together  a  little.  "  My  dear 
Lady  Brooke,"  he  said,  as  suavely  as  he  could, 
"  can  you  not  understand  my  anxiety  about  you  ? 
You  surely  are  not  surprised  that  I  was  reluctant 
to  leave  you  unprotected  in  the  power  of  a  ruffian 
—  an  escaped  convict  — " 

"  Whose  escape  you  procured,  I  am  told,"  she 
replied,  "  for  family  reasons." 

"  The  same  reasons  for  which  I  am  now  anxious 
to  meet  him,"  retorted  the  earl.  "  I  know  not  by 
what  arts  he  has  induced  you  to  help  him  —  or  to 


THE  PARSON  SELLS  A  SECRET  267 

conceal  him,  perhaps  —  under  a  mistaken  compas- 
sion for  a  fugitive — " 

"  Would  you  wish  to  search  the  house,  Lord 
Beachcombe?  "  said  Prue,  majestically  rising.  "  If 
so,  do  not  hesitate  to  make  the  minutest  in- 
vestigation. You  will  be  quite  as  successful  to- 
day as  your  emissaries  were  yesterday.  Captain 
de  Cliffe  came  into  my  grandmother's  house  openly 
and  without  precaution  and  walked  out  of  it  two 
hours  ago,  just  as  you,  Lord  Beachcombe,  will  do 
when  you  have  satisfied  yourself  of  my  veracity  — 
and  with  as  little  prospect  of  ever  returning! " 

Lord  Beachcombe  stood  dumfounded.  Could 
this  pale,  proud  woman,  her  azure  eyes  suddenly 
black  with  anger  and  her  clear  voice  vibrant  with 
passion,  be  the  gay,  frivolous  creature,  who  had 
played  with  his  heart  for  a  few  weeks  and  tossed 
it  back  to  him  with  a  gibe  and  a  laugh;  whom  no 
one  could  anger,  because  nothing  ever  seemed  worth 
being  angry  about,  and  whose  deepest  emotion  had 
always  been  more  volatile  than  the  bubbles  of 
champagne?  What  had  happened  to  work  such  a 
transformation  ? 

"  I  fear  that  you  have  misunderstood  me,  Lady 
Prudence,"  he  said  at  last  "  If  I  have  unwittingly 
offended  you,  I  beg  to  apologize  most  humbly." 

Prue  preserved  a  disdainful  silence. 

"  Pray  pardon  my  inadvertence,"  Beachcombe 
went  on,  still  more  abjectly.  "  I  can  not  leave  you 
again  under  sentence  of  banishment  —  at  least  per- 
mit me  to  withdraw — " 


268       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"What!  without  searching  the  house?"  inter- 
rupted Prue  trenchantly ;  "  I  should  advise  you 
not  to  miss  an  opportunity  that  may  not  recur." 

Lord  Beachcombe  drew  himself  up  with  a 
grieved  air.  "  I  merely  wished  to  withdraw  any 
remark  that  might  be  displeasing  to  you,  Vis- 
countess. It  would  grieve  me  beyond  expression 
to  offend  you.  If,  in  my  excitement,  I  appeared 
incredulous,  it  was  not  that  I  presumed  to  doubt 
your  word,  but  that  I  found  it  hard  to  believe  that 
Fate  could  have  played  me  so  scurvy  a  trick." 

Prue  accepted  his  apologies  with  a  dignified  cool- 
ness that  left  him  no  excuse  for  prolonging  his 
visit,  so  he  departed,  much  crestfallen,  but  far  from 
being  convinced.  While  he  was  dismissing  his  fol- 
lowers with  a  none  too  liberal  douceur,  an  elderly 
man,  attired  with  rich  simplicity,  saluted  him  un- 
obtrusively. Beachcombe  stared  after  him  as  he 
disappeared  into  the  house,  at  first  not  recognizing 
the  somewhat  plebeian  figure,  then  muttering, 
"What  is  that  old  Jew  doing  here?  "  drove  away, 
pondering  on  the  strangeness  of  Prue's  visitors 
and  the  atmosphere  of  mystery  with  which  she  had 
surrounded  herself. 

Could  he  have  penetrated  the  actual  motive  of 
Mr.  Aarons'  visit,  his  surprise  would  have  grown 
into  amazement,  for  surely  no  greater  tribute  to 
the  versatility  of  Prue's  charms  could  be  offered 
than  the  fact  that  they  had  brought  Mr.  Aarons 
to  her  feet.  At  least  thirty  of  his  fifty  years  had 
been  spent  in  the  exclusive  pursuit  of  wealth. 
Pleasure  he  only  knew  by  name.  Love  was  to  him 


THE  PARSON  SELLS  A  SECRET  269 

merely  a  curious  spell  under  which  men  became 
utterly  reckless  of  consequences  and  unhesitatingly 
bartered  their  present  possessions  and  future  pros- 
pects for  the  means  of  dazzling  a  silly  woman  or 
purchasing  a  worthless  one.  That  it  brought  easy 
prey  into  his  net  was  the  only  thing  he  knew  in 
its  favor,  and  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  his  late 
proposal  of  marriage  to  the  Viscountess  Brooke  was 
not  prompted  by  any  sentiments  loftier  than  those 
he  so  contemptuously  disparaged. 

He  knew  her  to  be  thoughtless  and  extravagant, 
for  her  visits  to  him  had  been  the  invariable  result 
of  losses  at  the  card-table,  or  debts  equally  pressing 
and  unprofitable.  Such  gossip  about  her  as  reached 
his  ears,  roused  his  derision,  which  her  frequent 
matrimonial  entanglements  certainly  did  not  abate. 
Yet  he  was  no  more  capable  of  resisting  her  fasci- 
nation than  any  butterfly  of  the  court,  and  although 
his  declaration  had  been  to  some  extent  unpremedi- 
tated, he  was  resolved,  now  he  had  offered  his  hand 
to  the  "  Widow  Brooke,"  to  lose  no  time  and  spare 
no  effort  to  win  her  acceptance. 

He  had  waited  a  week,  trusting  that  her  necessi- 
ties would  drive  her  back  to  him,  but  hearing  of 
her  triumphant  return  to  court,  and  her  startling 
adventures  later,  decided  to  wait  no  longer.  There- 
fore it  was  that,  armed  with  what  he  believed  to 
be  an  irresistible  argument  in  his  favor,  he  pre- 
sented himself  at  Lady  Drumloch's  door  at  the  very 
moment  of  Lord  Beachcombe's  hasty  exit. 

Prue  and  Peggie  were  in  earnest  consultation 
on  no  less  important  a  subject  than  the  imminent 


270       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

explanation  with  Lady  Drumloch,  who,  after  the 
revelations  of  the  afternoon,  would  certainly  re- 
quire a  prompt  and  thorough  enlightenment.  That 
she  would  be  deeply  scandalized  by  the  truth,  yet 
was  too  shrewd  to  be  put  off  with  any  evasion, 
the  cousins  were  quite  aware,  and  their  consultation 
was  as  to  the  form  their  confession  should  take, 
rather  than  any  plan  of  concealment  or  prevarica- 
tion. 

When  James  announced  that  "  Mr.  Aarons  "  was 
below  and  besought  an  audience  of  the  Viscountess 
Brooke,  Prue  was  not  quite  sure  whether  this  inter- 
ruption was  a  welcome  respite  or  a  tiresome  delay. 

"  Aarons !  "  exclaimed  Peggie.  "  What  brings 
him  here?"  Then,  lowering  her  voice,  "Can  he 
be  coming  to  pay  his  court  to  you,  Prue?  " 

"  I  know  not,"  returned  Prue,  shrugging  her 
shoulders.  "  I  should  scarce  have  imagined  that  he 
would  presume  to  present  himself  here.  Well,  bid 
Mr.  Aarons  come  up,  James;  we  will  receive  him 
here." 

"  We ! "  laughed  Peggie,  making  for  the  door. 
"  I  have  no  wish  to  see  him,  and  I  am  sure  he  does 
not  come  here  on  my  account."  And  she  decamped 
without  giving  her  cousin  time  to  remonstrate. 

Prue  greeted  the  money-lender  in  her  stateliest 
manner,  and  entrenching  herself  behind  the  little 
tea-table,  requested  him  to  be  seated. 

"  This  is  indeed  a  surprise,"  she  said.  "  I  should 
never  have  supposed  that  the  busy  Mr.  Aarons  had 
time  to  spare  for  visiting." 

"  You  are  right,  Viscountess.     I  never,   in  my 


THE  PARSON  SELLS  A  SECRET  271 

life,  made  a  visit  without  an  object,"  he  replied,  "  but 
the  busiest  of  men  may  discover  that  there  are 
other  things  in  life  besides  business.  I,  for  ex- 
ample, have  discovered  that  youth,  beauty  and  ac- 
complishments —  such  as  yours  —  may  outvalue 
wealth  and  power  —  such  as  mine." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  Mr.  Aarons,"  said  Prue, 
in  a  moralizing  tone.  "  Youth  is  fleeting,  beauty 
is  but  skin-deep  and  accomplishments  —  such  as 
mine  —  are  apt  to  lead  their  possessor  into  mischief 
of  more  kinds  than  you  wot  of." 

"  Most  mischief  can  be  repaired  by  money,"  said 
Aarons  insinuatingly,  "  and  what  can  not  be 
achieved  by  youth,  beauty  and  accomplishments 
with  unlimited  wealth  to  boot?  You,  dear  Vis- 
countess, have  gone  far  without  money.  Think 
what  you  could  aspire  to  with  more  than  you  could 
spend  if  you  tried  your  hardest! " 

. "  Why  tantalize  me  with  such  visions  ?  "  cried 
Prue.  Then  suddenly  recalling  the  motive  of  her 
last  visit  to  the  money-lender,  she  added  mali- 
ciously, "  Sir  Geoffrey,  according  to  you,  will  not 
be  likely  to  test  my  extravagance  so  severely !  " 

"  Sir  Geoffrey !  "  he  exclaimed,  with  a  frown. 
"  He  is  no  match  for  your  ladyship.  You  have  but 
to  wait  a  few  weeks  for  the  dissolution  of  Par- 
liament to  see  him  luxuriously  lodged  in  his  town 
mansion  of  the  Queen's  Bench.  Be  warned  by  me, 
Viscountess,  unless  you  wish  to  share  his  lodg- 
ing." 

"  You  mean  that  I,  also,  may  be  arrested  for 
debt?"  she  retorted  with  disdain.  "If  I  remem- 


272       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

her  aright,  you  threatened  me  with  the  debtors' 
prison  t'other  day." 

"  I  threatened  you,  Lady  Prudence ! "  cried 
Aarons,  in  a  horrified  tone.  "  Never,  never !  Be- 
sides, your  debts  to  me  are  amply  secured,  and  my 
confidence  in  your  prospects  is  so  great  that  I  came 
to-day  expressly,"  he  drew  a  morocco  case  from  his 
breast-pocket,  "  to  restore  the  necklace  you  left  in 
my  care.  Your  court  toilets  must  need  diamonds 
to  set  them  off,  though  you  do  not,  and  it  is  a  pity 
to  keep  this  hidden  any  longer  in  my  strong-box, 
where  there  are  many  —  and  still  finer  ones,  wait- 
ing to  adorn  the  loveliest  of  her  sex." 

As  he  spoke,  he  opened  the  case  and  displayed  a 
necklace  of  fine  diamonds,  Prue's  wedding-gift 
from  her  father-in-law,  the  Earl  of  Overbridge. 
At  this  sight,  her  eyes  sparkled  more  brightly  than 
the  gems,  and  her  hand  involuntarily  stretched  out 
toward  the  glittering  thing. 

Aarons  watched  her  with  a  sardonic  smile,  in 
which  triumph  and  admiration  contended  with  his 
innate  contempt  for  feminine  weakness,  and  thrust- 
ing the  casket  into  her  hands,  said,  in  a  voice  far 
less  harsh  than  usual,  "  It  is  yours.  Only  let  me 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  wear  it." 

The  softening  of  his  tone  roused  Prue  with  a 
sort  of  shock.  The  scorn  and  repulsion  with  which 
she  had  listened  to  Aarons'  first  declaration  re- 
vived, made  sharper  by  an  unfamiliar  touch  of 
shame,  and  she  withdrew  her  hand  as  though  the 
gift  had  stung  her.  Then,  swift  as  thought,  a 
bright  glow  and  sparkle  sprang  into  her  face,  and 


THE  PARSON  SELLS  A  SECRET  273 

she  darted  from  the  room,  leaving  Aarons  trans- 
fixed with  amazement. 

He  was  still  in  the  same  position  —  leaning  for- 
ward with  the  open  jewel-case  in  his  outstretched 
hand  —  when  she  fluttered  back,  radiant  and  breath- 
less, and  dropped  into  her  seat  behind  the  table  with 
a  laugh  of  glee. 

"  Pardon  my  discourtesy,  my  good  Mr.  Aarons," 
she  cried.  "  You  took  me  somewhat  by  surprise ; 
I  was  not  prepared  for  so  much  forethought.  Tell 
me,  was  it  not  two  hundred  guineas  you  lent  me 
upon  that  necklace  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  but  — "  began  the  usurer. 

"  One  moment,"  Prue  quickly  interposed ;  "  I 
am  hopelessly  stupid  about  such  matters,  but  even  I 
know  that  there  is  interest  to  pay  for  that  loan. 
Please  tell  me  how  much?  Another  hundred 
pounds,  perhaps,  or — " 

"  I  don't  know  how  much,"  Aarons  interrupted 
bruskly.  "  This  is  not  a  matter  of  loan  and  in- 
terest." 

"  Oh !  pardon  me,  I  think  it  is,"  said  Prue, 
drawing  up  her  slender  neck  with  a  vast  access  of 
dignity.  "  I  am  charmed  to  have  my  diamonds 
once  more  —  God  he  knows  for  how  long ! "  and 
she  took  the  jewel-case  from  Aarons'  unresisting 
hand.  "  And  here,  my  good  sir,  are  three  hundred 
pounds;  if  I  am  still  in  your  debt,  let  me  know  and 
I  will  pay  you  some  other  day." 

She  placed  three  of  Robin's  bank-notes  before 
him,  and  lifting  the  necklace  from  its  velvet  bed 
clasped  it  about  her  throat. 


274       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"There!"  she  cried,  facing  Aarons  with  a  be- 
witching smile.  "  Now  you  can  have  your  wish ; 
I  have  put  it  on  so  that  you  can  see  me  wear  it!  " 

"  It  is  a  sight  I  shall  always  remember  with  ad- 
miration," said  Aarons,  recovering  his  self-com- 
mand with  the  ease  of  long  practice,  "  and  I  will 
leave  it  to  your  mirror's  reflection  to  remind  you 
that  I  only  await  a  word  from  you  to  place  my  for- 
tune at  your  feet." 

"  Ah ! "  sighed  Prue,  "  if  it  were  only  a  ques- 
tion of  your  fortune !  Must  you  go,  Mr.  Aarons  ?  " 
for  he  had  risen,  and  hat  in  hand,  was  already 
bowing  himself  out. 

"  Unfortunately,  I  am  much  pressed  for  time, 
Viscountess,  so  I  am  reluctantly  compelled  to  take 
my  leave ;  but  I  trust  not  for  long.  Fare  you  well." 
And  he  was  gone,  leaving  the  bank-notes  where  she 
had  placed  them  on  the  table. 

In  the  hall  he  found  James  engaged  in  an  alter- 
cation with  a  red-faced  person  in  shabby  black  of 
a  quasi-clerical  cut.  This  individual  was  not  pre- 
cisely drunk,  but  most  evidently  not  very  sober,  and 
the  voice  in  which  he  expressed  his  intention  of  see- 
ing and  speaking  with  the  Viscountess  Brooke  —  if 
he  had  to  wait  until  midnight  —  was  very  husky 
and  rather  bellicose. 

"  If  I  can  not  see  the  Lady  Brooke,  I'll  wait  and 
see  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert,"  he  insisted,  as  James 
reiterated  the  utter  impossibility  of  such  a  visitor 
to  any  member  of  the  family. 

"  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert  does  not  live  here," 


-Was   it  not  two  hundred  guineas  ?  "       Page  274. 


THE  PARSON  SELLS  A  SECRET  275 

replied  James  loftily.  "  You  had  better  call  at  his 
house." 

The  tipsy  gentleman  leered  in  a  most  impertinent 
fashion.  "  I'm  a  good  deal  more  likely  to  find  him 
at  Lady  Brooke's  house  than  his  own,"  he  observed 
confidentially. 

A  hand  was  placed  on  his  arm,  and  turning  with 
a  nervous  start,  he  found  the  harsh  gaze  of  Mr. 
Aarons  bent  sternly  upon  him. 

"  Parson  Goodridge !  you  here  and  in  this  condi- 
tion ?  "  exclaimed  the  money-lender. 

"  Me  here?  Well,  so  are  you!"  hiccoughed  the 
reverend  gentleman.  "  Who  the  devil  would  ex- 
pect to  find  old  '  shent-per-shent '  in  a  lady's 
boudoir  ?  " 

"  I  am  frequently  in  places  where  you  would 
least  expect  to  meet  me,"  said  Aarons,  with  a  scowl 
at  the  other's  tipsy  familiarity.  "  But  this  meeting 
is  opportune ;  I  want  a  few  words  with  you,  and  as 
you  will  gain  nothing  by  waiting  here,  you  may  as 
well  come  with  me." 

Goodridge  hesitated  and  made  an  abortive  at- 
tempt to  wriggle  out  of  the  usurer's  firm  grasp. 

"  You  can't  do  anything  to  me,"  he  said  at  last, 
in  a  resigned  tone.  "  I'm  safe  in  the  *  Rules,'  and 
all  the  creditors  in  London  Town  can  not  touch  me." 

However,  he  made  no  further  resistance,  and 
when  they  reached  the  street,  Aarons'  manner 
changed  completely.  His  hand  slipped  through  the 
parson's  arm  with  a  friendly  pressure  and  his  voice 
lost  its  grinding  harshness. 


276       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  Is  there  no  quiet  place  of  entertainment  near 
by,  where  we  can  have  a  little  talk  —  on  business  ?  " 
he  inquired.  "  Pleasant  business,  Parson ;  business 
that  may  fill  your  pockets  with  gold,  mayhap;  or, 
if  not  that,  at  least  will  give  us  a  chance  to  crack 
a  bottle  of  good  wine  together." 

"  You  have  come  to  the  right  man  if  you  are 
thirsty,"  replied  Goodridge  solemnly.  "  I  never 
drink  between  meals  myself,  but  there  are  few 
places  within  the  pale  of  civilization,  where  I  can 
not  help  a  fellow-creature  to  quench  his  thirst." 

With  which  exordium,  he  turned  into  a  narrow 
lane  or  mews,  at  the  farther  end  of  which  a  mean 
little  inn  advertised  its  attractions  by  a  sign  from 
which  the  device  had  long  since  disappeared. 

"  'Tis  better  inside  than  out,"  the  reverend  gen- 
tleman declared,  and  he  was  so  far  right  that  the 
unoccupied  coffee-room  was  cleanly  sanded  and  a 
bottle  of  not  absolutely  poisonous  port  was  soon 
on  the  rough  wooden  table  between  the  oddly  as- 
sorted couple. 

Aarons  plied  his  guest  discreetly,  while  he  led  up 
to  the  subject  he  wished  to  discuss.  He  praised 
the  beauty  and  charms  of  Lady  Prudence,  and  con- 
gratulated Goodridge  on  the  friendship  of  a  lady 
so  high  in  the  queen's  favor.  No  doubt  her  influ- 
ence would  obtain  some  fat  preferment  for  his 
reverence?  Goodridge  winked  with  great  unc- 
tion, but  was  not  to  be  drawn  by  any  mere  conver- 
sational bait. 

"  My  interest  in  the  viscountess  is,  of  course, 
money,"  said  Aarons,  with  an  air  of  great  frank- 


THE  PARSON  SELLS  A  SECRET     277 

ness ;  "  that  is  the  only  interest  I  have  in  any  of 
these  fine  dames.  They  will  gamble  at  cards,  and 
run  into  de-bt;  until  they  get  desperate  and  fly  to 
me  with  their  jewels,  to  stave  off  their  creditors 
until  luck  turns  or  some  wealthy  relative  leaves 
them  a  fortune.  Many  of  them  owe  me  money, 
and  it  is  my  business  to  see  that  they  do  not  cheat 
me  out  of  it.  Sometimes  it  is  worth  my  while  to 
pay  well  for  a  little  information." 

"  Sometimes  it  may  pay  better  to  keep  a  secret 
than  sell  it,"  said  Goodridge,  with  latent  boastful- 
ness. 

"  Unless  you  are  clever  enough  to  make  one  pay 
you  for  keeping  it  and  another  for  selling  it,"  sug- 
gested Aarons.  "  Not  that  I  want  you  to  sell 
me  any  secret  of  the  Viscountess  Brooke's.  'Tis 
easy  for  me  to  know  all  I  want  about  her  affairs. 
My  interest  is  in  her  lover,  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaude- 
sert." 

Goodridge  laughed  and  held  out  his  glass  for  re- 
plenishment. 

"  Sir  Geoffrey,  I  fear,  is  not  worthy  of  this 
lady,"  said  Aarons,  passing  the  bottle  over  to  his 
guest.  "  She  might  make  a  much  better  match 
if  she  could  be  prevented  from  marrying  him.  It 
would  suit  me  better  to  have  her  marry  a  rich  man 
who  could  pay  her  debts,  you  understand,  than  one 
such  as  Sir  Geoffrey,  who  is  himself  only  kept  out 
of  prison  by  being  in  Parliament.  Now,  it  is  more 
than  likely  that  such  a  gay  gallant  has  many  a 
little  entanglement  or  intrigue  or  what  not,  that  it 
would  be  useful  for  me  to  know  about,  and  any  one 


278       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

who  could  serve  me  by  discovering  some  such  irregu- 
larity would  do  a  true  kindness  to  the  lady  and 
help  himself  at  the  same  time." 

Goodridge  laughed  again,  and  emptying  his  glass, 
refilled  it  and  held  it  with  an  unsteady  hand  be- 
tween his  bleary  eye  and  the  dim  window.  Aarons 
watched  him  with  a  wry  smile,  patient  and  sardonic, 
looking  for  the  psychological  moment  when  his  lips 
would  unclose  under  the  influence  of  the  repeated 
bumpers. 

"  Boy,"  he  called  to  the  attendant,  "  another 
bottle ;  shall  it  be  the  same,  Parson  ?  " 

"  This  is  fair,  but  they've  a  better  one,"  replied 
Goodridge,  smacking  his  lips. 

"  Bring  us  a  bottle  of  the  best  you  have,"  Aarons 
ordered,  and  when  it  came,  he  filled  both  glasses 
and  proposed  the  health  of  the  beautiful  viscount- 
ess, and  a  rich  husband  for  her. 

Again  Goodridge  laughed,  and  this  time  with 
such  rapturous  glee  that  Aarons  was  quite  con- 
founded. 

"  What  a  merry  fellow  you  are,  Parson,"  he 
grunted ;  "  I'd  give  a  guinea  to  know  what  you  are 
laughing  at" 

"  A  guinea !  "  cried  Goodridge.  "  You  would 
give  more  than  that,  I'll  warrant.  Why,  I  was 
thinking  that  there's  no  more  chance  for  Sir  Geof- 
frey Beaudesert  than  there  is  —  for  —  you,  for  ex- 
ample —  or  me !  " 

'  You  think  not  ?  "  queried  Aarons,  passing  over 
the  personal  application  of  the  remark  with  a  men- 
tal reservation. 


THE  PARSON  SELLS  A  SECRET  279 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Goodridge,  with  tipsy  solem- 
nity. "  I'll  take  my  oath  on  it." 

"  Your  oath  may  be  priceless,"  said  Aarons,  "  but 
I  can  only  pay  for  proof." 

"And  what,"  said  Goodridge,  setting  down  his 
empty  glass,  "  may  you  be  willing  to  pay  for  proof 
that  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert  can  not  marry  the 
Lady  Prudence  ?  " 

Aarons  eyed  him  warily.  "  I  have  a  judgment 
against  you,  Parson,  for  forty-three  pounds  and 
costs.  I  will  vacate  the  judgment  and  give  you  — 
five  guineas.  'Tis  a  liberal  offer  for  —  I  know  not 
what." 

For  answer,  the  reverend  gentleman  leaned  across 
the  table,  and  extending  his  right  hand  within  a 
few  inches  of  Aarons'  nose,  snapped  his  fingers 
half-a-dozen  times. 

"  That  for  your  judgment ! "  he  shouted  trucu- 
lently. "  I'm  in  the  Rules  for  life  and  you  can 
neither  keep  me  in  nor  let  me  out.  Why,  man, 
I've  a  score  of  judgments  against  me,  and  if  you 
vacated  yours,  I  should  be  no  better  off;  nay, 
worse,  for  it  might  remind  the  creditors  who  have 
long  since  forgotten  me.  No,  no,  most  excellent 
money-lender,  my  secret  may  be  worth  nothing  or 
it  may  be  worth  much,  but  only  cash  can  buy  it  — 
ready  cash ! " 

Aarons,  with  a  scowling  brow,  reflected.  Was  it 
worth  a  large  sum  to  break  off  the  match  between 
those  two  headstrong  young  people?  If  Good- 
ridge was  to  be  believed  the  marriage  was  impossi- 
ble, and  no  expenditure  of  his  beloved  gold  was 


280       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

needed  to  prevent  it.  On  the  other  hand,  the  tri- 
umph of  proving  to  Prue  some  hidden  treason  of 
Sir  Geoffrey's  allured  him,  and  the  possibility  that 
she  might  avenge  herself  by  taking  another  and 
wealthier  husband,  included  the  probability  of  that 
other  husband  being  the  one  to  enlighten  her  and 
offer  himself  as  the  ready  instrument  of  retaliation. 

"  I  will  give  you  ten  guineas,  cash,"  he  said,  after 
a  pause. 

"  When  you  know  my  secret,  you  will  think  it 
cheap  at  ten  times  ten  guineas,"  said  Goodridge. 

Aarons  rose  and  began  to  button  his  surtout  "  I 
see,"  he  said,  "  that  we  are  not  like  to  agree,  and 
as  my  time  is  valuable  you  will  excuse  me  if  I 
leave  you  to  finish  the  bottle  alone."  As  he  spoke, 
he  allowed  some  loose  coins  to  rattle  in  his  pocket, 
and  in  paying  the  reckoning,  pulled  out  a  handful 
of  golden  guineas  and  tossed  one  to  the  waiter. 

The  sight  of  the  money  produced  the  effect  he 
had  expected.  Goodridge's  moist  eyes  glistened 
and  his  lips  pursed  themselves  greedily.  "  Sit 
down,  Aarons,"  he  said  thickly,  "  and  have  a  part- 
ing glass." 

With  an  air  of  reserve  and  ill-humor,  the  usurer 
poured  a  small  quantity  of  wine  into  his  glass  and 
without  resuming  his  seat  nodded  to  his  guest,  and 
muttering  something  that  might  have  been  either  a 
toast  or  a  malediction,  sipped  it  with  a  deprecatory 
expression. 

"  Come  now,"  said  Goodridge,  after  waiting 
vainly  for  him  to  renew  the  negotiations ;  "  what  is 
it  really  worth  to  you  to  stop  this  marriage  ?  " 


"  It  may  not  be  worth  a  great  deal  to  me,"  said 
Aarons  carelessly,  but  he  sat  down ;  "  you  never 
can  account  for  women's  vagaries.  If  I  get  her 
out  of  this  affair,  she  may  do  worse  instead  of 
better." 

"  She  can't  do  worse,"  chuckled  Goodridge.  But 
Aarons  had  not  the  key  to  his  merriment  and  all 
his  suspicions  were  centered  on  some  unpardonable 
misdeed  of  the  bridegroom  elect. 

"  Were  you  going  to  tell  her  so  when  I  met  you 
at  her  house  ? "  he  inquired,  smiling  grimly. 
"  What  do  you  expect  to  get  from  her  ?  " 

"  That's  my  business,"  he  retorted.  "  But  I 
wasn't  going  to  offer  her  any  secrets  for  sale.  Oh ! 
no,  the  Lady  Prudence  is  my  good  friend,  and  if  I 
need  a  few  guineas,  she's  too  kind-hearted  to  refuse 
me." 

Suddenly  it  dawned  upon  Aarons  that  there  was 
something  sinister  in  the  situation;  a  woman  like 
the  Viscountess  Brooke  was  not  the  friend  of  such 
a  miserable  wretch  for  mere  kindliness.  He  felt 
that  whatever  the  price,  he  must  know  the  whole 
truth,  if  this  man  could  be  induced  to  tell  it. 

"  Will  you  take  twenty  guineas  for  your  fine 
secret  ?  "  he  asked  with  a  sneer. 

"  No,  but  I'll  take  fifty  and  give  you  full  value," 
said  Goodridge.  "  I  haven't  the  proofs  here,  but 
I'll  tell  you  the  secret  for  half  the  money  and  you 
shall  give  me  the  rest,  when  I  give  you  the  proofs. 
It's  a  loss  to  me,"  he  half-whimpered,  "  for  if  I 
kept  the  secret  and  used  it  right,  I  might  live  well 
on  it  as  long  as  it  remained  a  secret." 


282       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

Aarons  counted  out  twenty-five  gold  coins  upon 
the  table,  and  covered  them  with  his  hand. 
"  Now,"  he  said,  "  there  is  half  your  price,  and  if 
you  can  give  me  a  satisfactory  reason  why  Sir 
Geoffrey  Beaudesert  can  not,  by  any  possibility, 
marry  Lady  Prudence  Brooke,  that  money  is  yours, 
and  as  much  more  when  I  have  your  proofs.  But 
if  you  are  deceiving  me,  beware!  I  am  not  a  man 
to  be  trifled  with." 

"  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert  can  not  marry  Lady 
Prudence  Brooke  for  the  very  good  reason  that  she 
is  already  married,"  Goodridge  whispered,  leaning 
across  the  table  with  his  mouth  at  Aarons'  ear. 

The  usurer  started  back  and  his  face  became 
black  with  fury.  "  Lady  Prudence  married !  "  he 
exclaimed. 

"  Sh-sh-sh ! "  Goodridge  glanced  round  appre- 
hensively ;  "  don't  blurt  it  out  for  the  whole  town 
to  hear.  Yes,  she  is  married.  I  myself  performed 
the  ceremony." 

"  You  performed  the  ceremony ! "  muttered 
Aarons,  with  increasing  anger  and  amazement. 
"  Tell  me  the  whole  story ;  whom  did  she  marry, 
and  when?  " 

"  Is  it  worth  the  money  ?  "  asked  Goodridge,  leer- 
ing at  his  scowling  face.  Aarons  pushed  the  twen- 
ty-five guineas  across  the  table  with  quick  impa- 
tience, and  the  other  picked  them  up,  counted  them 
and  stowed  them  in  his  pocket,  before  continuing. 

"  I  married  her  less  than  a  week  ago,"  he  then 
went  on.  "  The  wedding  took  place  in  Newgate 
Prison,  and  the  bridegroom  was  Robin  Freemantle, 


THE  PARSON  SELLS  A  SECRET     283 

the  highwayman.  Now  you  know  as  much  as  I 
do." 

''  You  lie,  you  damned  scoundrel !  "  roared  Aarons, 
beside  himself  with  rage.  "  This  is  an  invention 
to  rob  me.  You  think  to  get  my  money  for  a 
tissue  of  lies  and  then  laugh  at  me  for  a  credulous 
fool !  A  woman  who  could  pick  and  choose  among 
a  dozen  titles  and  fortunes  marry  a  felon  in  jail! 
If  this  is  a  joke,  it  is  a  dangerous  one,  Mister  Par- 
son, as  you  will  find  unless  you  return  my  money 
and  make  me  a  humble  apology." 

Goodridge  had  risen  to  his  feet  and,  consider- 
ably sobered  by  this  unexpected  outburst,  faced  the 
infuriated  man,  pale  beneath  his  vinous  flush. 

"  Did  you  think  to  get  such  a  secret  as  that  from 
me  and  then  rob  me  of  the  price?"  he  stuttered. 
"  I  swear  by  the  Cross  you  accursed  Jews  despise, 
that  I  have  told  you  the  truth.  Last  Friday  I  mar- 
ried Prudence,  widow  of  James  Stuart  Brooke,"  he 
sank  his  voice  to  a  whisper,  "  to  the  highwayman, 
then  under  sentence  to  be  hanged  last  Monday." 

A  gleam  shot  across  Aarons'  face.  "  Hanged 
last  Monday !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Why,  then,  she's 
a  widow  again." 

"  That's  what  she  expected  to  be,  I'll  be  sworn," 
said  Goodridge,  with  great  significance.  "  But  I 
said  under  sentence.  That  sentence  was  not  carried 
out.  He  was  reprieved  and  set  at  liberty,  and  my 
lady  is  still  his  wife." 

A  dark  frown  furrowed  the  usurer's  brow.  Be- 
fore his  eyes  rose  the  vision  of  the  beautiful  object 
of  his  desire,  with  the  diamonds  he  had  thought  to 


284       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

buy  her  with  around  her  milky  throat  and  the  bank- 
notes he  had  refused  in  payment  lying  unregarded 
on  the  table.  He  ground  his  teeth  in  impotent  fury 
to  think  how  he  had  been  the  dupe  of  his  own 
fatuity,  and  a  savage  longing  rose  in  him  for  re- 
venge upon  the  disdainful  beauty,  whose  astound- 
ing caprice  had  placed  her  out  of  his  reach.  . 

Tipsy  as  Goodridge  was,  he  had  been  crafty 
enough  to  hold  his  tongue  about  Sir  Geoffrey's 
part  in  the  transaction,  therefore  it  was  not  un- 
natural that  Aarons'  thoughts  should  turn  to  his 
erstwhile  rival  as  a  fit  instrument  of  Prue's  hu- 
miliation. To  expose  her,  degrade  her  and,  if  pos- 
sible, ruin  her  socially,  he  would  spare  neither 
money  nor  skill,  but  he  felt  himself  unfit  for  the 
task;  the  blow  from  his  hand  might  recoil  upon 
himself  and  leave  her  unscathed.  Besides,  his  ideas 
were,  for  the  moment,  too  chaotic,  and  he  was  not 
the  man  to  weaken  his  purpose  by  undue  haste. 

With  a  tremendous  effort  of  his  iron  will,  he 
subdued  all  outward  expression  of  anger,  and  even 
called  up  a  smile  of  grim  amusement.  Once  more 
rising  from  the  table,  he  bade  his  companion  adieu 
without  any  further  allusion  to  the  twenty-five 
guineas,  much  to  the  reverend  scamp's  relief. 

'  Take  my  advice,  Parson,  and  keep  a  silent 
tongue  in  your  head,"  he  remarked.  "I  will  keep 
your  secret,  because  it  will  not  serve  me  to  betray 
it,  but  if  you  take  many  more  into  your  confidence, 
you  may  get  into  trouble." 

With  which  he  strode  away,  leaving  Goodridge 
to  the  congenial  society  of  the  half-empty  bottle. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

A  SUPPER  FOR  THREE 

P RUE'S  delight  at  the  restoration  of  her  neck- 
lace was  so  great  that  she  forgot  her  fatigue, 
and  Peggie  found  her  dancing  before  a  mirror  and 
trying  a  variety  of  coquettish  poses  to  show  off  the 
sparkling  jewel  and  the  fair  throat  it  adorned.  At 
first  she  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  teasing 
Peggie  by  feigning  to  take  Mr.  Aarons'  proposal 
seriously. 

"  Fancy,  cjear  coz,"  she  cried ;  "  this  Crcesus  tells 
me  his  strong-box  literally  bursts  with  diamonds  only 
awaiting  my  acceptance.  He  promises  me  the  fin- 
est of  town-houses,  with  equipages  and  retinue  to 
turn  the  grandest  of  our  duchesses  green  with  envy 
—  the  purse  of  Fortunatus,  which  will  only  be  the 
fuller  the  more  I  spend !  How  pleased  grannie  will 
be  to  own  Lady  Prudence  Aarons  for  a  grand- 
daughter ! " 

Peggie  broke  into  smiles.  "  Lady  Prudence 
Aarons!  Picture  grannie's  face  when  you  present 
the  new  grandson-elect  to  her  ladyship." 

"  But  seriously,  Peg,"  Prue  went  on  more  soberly, 
"  this  man  aspires  to  marry  me,  and  would  have  be- 
stowed my  own  necklace  upon  me  as  a  gift,  had  I 
not  insisted  upon  paying  him." 

285 


286       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"Paying  him!"  cried  Peggie,  in  accents  of  the 
most  profound  astonishment.  At  the  same  mo- 
ment her  eye  fell  upon  the  little  table  and  she 
pounced  upon  the  neglected  bank-notes  with  amaze- 
ment too  intense  for  words. 

"He  left  the  money!"  exclaimed  Prue,  gaz- 
ing at  the  notes  as  Peggie  wildly  fluttered  them 
before  her.  "I  have  done  Aarons  injustice.  He 
must  be  really  in  love  with  me." 

"  Prue !  where  on  earth  did  this  come  from  ?  " 
demanded  Peggie,  utterly  mystified. 

"  Not  from  Aarons,"  replied  Prue,  a  tender  smile 
creeping  over  her  lips  as  she  took  the  notes  with 
an  almost  caressing  touch.  "  Don't  be  afraid ; 
I  am  not  yet  sold  to  the  devil.  But  come,  Peggie, 
we  have  no  time  to  waste.  We  must  dress  for 
Lady  Rialton's  dinner  and  I  must  show  myself  at 
half-a-dozen  routs  and  balls  before  I  can  even  spare 
time  to  think.  Oh!  I  wonder  where  Barbara  is 
going  to-night ! " 

"  You  are  bound  to  meet  her  somewhere,"  said 
Peggie  consolingly,  "  and  if  not,  you  may  be  sure 
she'll  take  good  care  of  your  Robin,  so  don't  be 
uneasy." 

Prue  gave  her  a  half-comical,  half -reproachful 
glance.  "  I  never  saw  Barbara  look  as  charming 
as  she  did  to-day,"  she  pouted.  "  Those  tall  lace 
heads  are  certainly  very  becoming  to  her  kind  of 
figure  —  they  make  her  look  quite  slender  —  and 
the  touch  of  hair-powder  gave  an  extra  sparkle  to 
her  eyes." 

"  'Twas   not  the  powder  on   her  hair,   but   the 


A  SUPPER  FOR  THREE  287 

rouge  on  her  cheeks  that  made  her  eyes  sparkle," 
quoth  Peggie,  who  was  a  trifle  jealous  of  Barbara's 
influence. 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  Would  a  little  rouge  im- 
prove me,  do  you  think?  I  am  sure  I  look  faded." 
Prue  peered  anxiously  into  a  mirror,  but  the  sight 
that  greeted  her  eye  was  reassuring.  "  I  wish  I 
had  kept  him  here ;  we  could  have  hidden  him  some- 
where," she  said,  with  a  regretful  sigh. 

"  Where  ?  "  cried  Peggie  trenchantly.  "  Under 
grannie's  bed,  belike !  Any  other  place  might  have 
been  searched  if  Lord  Beachcombe  had  brought  a 
constable  with  a  warrant !  " 

"  He  is  capable  of  that,  even  now,"  Prue  agreed. 
"  Barbara's  coquetry  is  more  dangerous  to  me,  per- 
haps, but  safer  for  Robin." 

Poor  Prue  was  doomed  to  a  good  many  heart- 
pangs  that  evening,  and  without  even  the  accus- 
tomed support  of  Peggie's  sympathy.  After  Lady 
Rialton's  dinner  the  cousins  separated.  Peggie  re- 
turned home,  and  Prue,  with  less  heartiness  than 
usual,  pursued  the  round  of  social  functions.  Her 
first  inquiry  at  every  house  was  for  Barbara  Sweet- 
ing. No  one  was  surprised  at  that,  because  the 
two  were  known  to  be  the  closest  allies;  but  she 
had  not  been  seen  anywhere,  a  circumstance  that 
caused  some  remark  in  so  pious  a  pilgrim  of  pleas- 
ure. Various  reasons  were  suggested,  such  as  an 
attack  of  vapors,  the  return  of  General  Sweeting's 
gout,  or  chagrin  at  not  having  been  invited  to  take 
part  in  the  amateur  theatricals  at  Marlborough 
House,  none  of  which  satisfied  Prue,  who,  per- 


288       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

haps  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  felt  the  serpent- 
tooth  of  jealousy. 

But  if  Barbara's  absence  disturbed  her,  she  was 
goaded  almost  beyond  endurance  by  the  persistence 
of  Lord  Beachcombe,  who  followed  her  like  a 
shadow,  ignoring  alike  her  snubs  and  the  gibes  of 
those  who  fancied  themselves  on  the  trail  of  a 
renovated  infatuation.  In  self-defense  she  kept  Sir 
Geoffrey  in  close  attendance,  reckless  of  significant 
glances  from  curious  eyes  that  were  swift  to  mark 
his  air  of  triumphant  proprietorship,  until  at  last, 
worn  out  with  disappointment  and  fatigue,  she 
begged  him  to  call  her  chair,  as  she  was  dying  to 
go  home  and  get  to  bed. 

"  And  do,  I  implore  you,  leave  me  to  go  away 
alone,  Sir  Geoffrey,"  she  entreated,  in  most  pathetic 
tones.  "  I  am  too  weary  to  entertain  any  one ;  you 
must  see  for  yourself  that  I  am  almost  too  tired  to 
speak." 

It  was  impossible  to  contradict  her,  for  her  pale 
face  and  clouded  eyes  betrayed  intense  nervous 
strain.  Sir  Geoffrey  contented  himself  with  ob- 
taining permission  to  inquire  after  her  health  at 
an  early  hour  next  day,  and  repaired  to  his  club, 
where  he  speedily  found  distraction  at  the  card- 
table. 

But  Prue,  tired  as  she  was,  had  no  intention 
of  going  home  without  one  more  attempt  to  see 
Barbara,  to  whose  mansion  in  Park  Lane  she  was 
forthwith  conveyed.  Her  friend  was  at  home  and 
the  servants,  aware  of  the  intimate  relations  be- 
tween the  two  ladies,  did  not  hesitate  to  admit 


A  SUPPER  FOR  THREE  289 

Prue,  and  inform  her  that  supper  was  then  being 
served  in  the  Painted  Room,  a  charming  apartment, 
where  Barbara  was  in  the  habit  of  holding  high 
revelry  with  her  closest  intimates,  and  giving  gay 
supper-parties  at  which  gambling  for  high  stakes, 
charades  imitated  from  the  entertainments  of  the 
French  court,  and  similar  amusements  kept  gossip 
on  the  qui  vive. 

There  was  no  gathering  of  wits  and  beauties  to- 
night, however.  The  room  (which  took  its  name 
from  the  mythological  paintings  with  which  the 
ceiling  and  walls  were  decorated)  was  brightly 
lighted,  but  unoccupied,  and  in  the  small  conserva- 
tory opening  out  of  it,  at  a  little  table  set  for  two 
among  the  banks  of  blossoming  plants  and  cages  of 
bright-hued  birds,  sat  Barbara  coquetting  with 
Robin  Freemantle  —  highwayman  and  outlaw !  — 
who  was  in  the  very  act  of  raising  her  hand  to 
his  lips  when  the  door  opened  to  admit  Prue. 

"  My  dearest  Prue  —  here  you  are  at  last  —  I 
had  almost  given  up  expecting  you !  "  cried  Barbara, 
greeting  her  with  effusion. 

"  Did  you  really  expect  me  ?  "  asked  Prue,  with 
irrepressible  irony.  "  Meeting  you  nowhere,  I 
feared  you  might  be  indisposed,  but  I  am  vastly  re- 
lieved to  find  that  you  reached  home  without  mis- 
hap." 

"  Nothing  could  be  more  triumphantly  successful 
than  our  escape,"  cried  Barbara,  gaily  ignoring 
Prue's  loftiness ;  "  and  as  you  see,  I  am  taking  excel- 
lent care  of  my  captive." 

"  Dearest  Barbara,  I  know  well  what  an  incom- 


290       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

parable  hostess  you  are,"  she  replied  dryly,  "  and 
now  that  I  have  seen  for  myself  that  you  are  safe, 
and  not  too  greatly  incommoded  by  your  exploit,  I 
will  take  my  leave,  as  I  am  positively  sinking  with 
fatigue." 

And  she  made  as  though  to  withdraw  without 
deigning  a  second  glance  toward  Robin,  who  had 
risen,  and  stood  there  a  veritable  statue  of  amaze- 
ment and  mortification. 

But  Barbara  caught  her  by  both  hands  and  drew 
her  to  the  table.  "  Nonsense,  Prue !  "  she  laughed, 
"  Do  you  think  I  am  going  to  let  you  run  off  like 
that?  Sinking  with  fatigue  indeed!  I'll  warrant 
you  will  flutter  from  ball-room  to  ball-room  for  the 
next  two  hours  if  I  do  not  keep  you  here.  Captain 
de  Cliffe  and  I  were  about  to  bore  each  other  to 
death  over  a  tete-a-tete  supper  and  you  have  come 
like  a  good  fairy  to  preserve  us  from  yawning  in 
each  other's  face —  (Prue  smiled  satirically)  — at 
least  sup  with  me,  dear  Gossip;  'twill  rest  you  more 
than  going  home  to  bed." 

"  My  chair  waits  — "  Prue  began,  though  not 
without  signs  of  hesitation. 

"  What  matters  that  ?  It  shall  be  dismissed  and 
I  will  send  you  home  in  mine." 

"  The  temptation  of  returning  in  such  state  as 
that  is  well-nigh  irresistible,"  Prue  conceded,  feeling 
that  she  had  been  sufficiently  coaxed  to  do  what 
she  particularly  wanted  to  do  without  sacrificing 
her  dignity.  She  began  to  unfasten  the  mantle  in 
which  she  was  enveloped,  but  when  Robin  sprang 
forward  to  assist  her,  she  allowed  it  to  drop  to  the 


A  SUPPER  FOR  THREE  291 

floor  and  walked  away,  leaving  him  to  pick  it  up  if 
he  pleased. 

"  You  will  stay,  then,"  cried  Barbara ;  "  that  is 
delightful.  I  will  order  another  cover  and  a  bottle 
of  your  favorite  Chambertin,  and  we  will  have  a 
little  festival  to  wish  your  friend  bon  voyage." 

And  she  rustled  away;  more  out  of  compassion 
for  Robin's  disconcerted  aspect  than  the  mere  im- 
pulse of  hospitality. 

Prue  seated  herself  behind  a  bank  of  flower- 
ing shrubs,  as  far  away  as  the  little  conservatory 
would  allow,  and  after  a  momentary  hesitation, 
Robin  followed. 

"  Have  I  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  incur  your 
displeasure,  dearest  ?  "  he  inquired  anxiously. 

"  My  displeasure,  sir?  Certainly  not,"  she  re- 
plied. "  What  can  it  matter  to  me  how  many 
ladies'  hands  you  kiss?  " 

At  this  Robin  (who,  although  a  novice  in  love, 
was  no  fool,)  was  completely  relieved.  He  was 
even  quite  elated  over  the  little  display  of  jealousy 
which  proved  that  Prue  was  far  from  indifferent 
to  him.  "  When  I  am  not  with  you,  dear  Prue," 
he  said  in  a  tone  of  gentle  reproach,  "my  heart 
is  so  full  of  you  that  it  flows  over  with  gratitude 
to  any  one  who  will  but  utter  your  name.  If  you 
had  heard  what  Lady  Barbara  was  saying  about 
you,  you  would  not  have  been  surprised  to  see  me 
embrace  her  feet  instead  of  her  hand." 

"What  did  she  say?"  asked  Prue,  her  curiosity 
overcoming  her  petulance. 

"  She  said  many  things  in  praise  of  the  dearest 


292       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

of  women,"  said  Robin,  taking  courage  to  seat  him- 
self beside  her,  "  but,  best  of  all,  she  assured  me 
that  not  one  of  all  your  scores  of  suitors  could 
boast  of  half  the  interest  you  had  shown  to-day  in 
the  poor  outlaw.  Do  you  wonder  that  I  kissed  her 
hand?" 

"  Barbara  is  very  indiscreet,"  said  Prue,  smiling 
a  little.  "  Besides,  she  has  the  most  beautiful  hands 
in  the  world !  " 

"  Are  they  beautiful?  I  was  thinking  too  much 
of  her  kind  words  to  notice  aught  else.  Yet  she 
warned  me  that  my  love  for  you  is  hopeless,  and 
indeed  she  is  right.  I  must  leave  England  in  a  few 
hours,  perhaps  for  ever  — " 

"  And  what  right  has  Barbara  to  think  our  love 
other  than  hopeless  ?  She  knows  nothing  about  it ! 
I  have  a  good  mind,"  cried  Prue,  "  to  tell  her  all 
and  see  what  she  says  then!  But  no!  she  would 
think  me  a  fool  for  throwing  myself  away  upon  a 
man  who  loves  me  so  little  that  he  can  bear  to  talk 
of  leaving  me  for  a  day,  let  alone  for  ever — " 

"  I  love  you  more  than  my  own  life  and  soul," 
said  Robin,  "  more  than  anything  except  honor  and 
duty;  but  their  call  I  dare  not  disobey.  My  life 
does  not  belong  to  myself,  but  to  the  cause  of  my 
king,  and  a  felon's  death  may  end  it  at  any  mo- 
ment It  would  be  infamous  for  me  to  hold  you 
bound  by  such  a  marriage,  as  ours  — " 

"  Do  you  know  me  so  little  as  to  suppose  that  I 
would  hold  myself  bound  by  it  if  I  wished  for  free- 
dom?" she  retorted.  "I  did  think  you  loved  me, 


A  SUPPER  FOR  THREE  293 

but  I  see  it  is  not  so;  a  man  who  loved  me  would 
fling  discretion  to  the  winds  and  busy  himself  with 
plans  for  keeping  me  whether  I  would  or  no.  Out 
on  such  scruples!  I  will  not  be  set  free.  If  there 
is  anything  infamous  about  our  marriage,  the  in- 
famy is  mine,  and  I  take  the  consequences  and  glory 
in  them.  Leave  me  now,  if  honor  and  duty  call 
you.  We  are  young  and  who  knows  what  may 
happen?  The  king  who  calls  you  away  now,  will 
bring  you  back  in  triumph  some  day,  then,  perhaps, 
it  may  be  Beachcombe's  turn  to  be  hunted  and 
driven  from  his  country."  Then  suddenly  remem- 
bering the  cause  of  Lord  Beachcombe's  fierce  pur- 
suit, she  brought  out  the  little  packet,  somewhat 
crumpled,  but  otherwise  intact.  "  I  had  almost 
forgotten  to  return  this,"  she  said ;  "  I  found  it 
after  you  had  escaped  by  the  river  on  Tuesday  and 
methinks  'tis  for  this  he  seeks  you." 

Robin  tooV  the  packet  and  glanced  at  the  super- 
scription. "  Tis  indeed  this,"  he  exclaimed.  "  By 
a  miracle  it  fell  into  your  hands  instead  of  his. 
Prithee  keep  it,  dear  one;  there  is  that  in  this  en- 
velope in  exchange  for  which  Beachcombe  would 
give  all  his  earthly  possessions,  and  mayhap,  some 
day  when  I  am  not  here  to  protect  you,  it  may  be 
worth  much  to  you  to  hold  the  secret  that  compelled 
him  to  take  me  out  of  Newgate,  and  has  kept  him 
thirsting  for  my  life  ever  since." 

"  I  am  but  a  weak  woman,"  said  Prue,  smiling 
archly,  as  she  replaced  the  precious  packet  in  her 
bosom.  "  Can  you  trust  me  with  such  a  secret  ?  " 


294       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  'Tis  the  secret  of  my  birth,"  said  Robin 
gravely,  "  and  belongs  as  much  to  my  wife  as  to 
me."  " 

"  I  discovered  that  secret  for  myself  this  after- 
noon," Prue  began,  but  Barbara,  thinking  she 
had  given  the  lovers  ample  time  to  make  up  their 
quarrel,  now  came  back  on  hospitable  thoughts  in- 
tent, and  the  trio,  in  a  very  pleasant  mood,  sat 
down  to  supper. 

It  was  long  past  midnight,  when  Prue,  after 
several  fainthearted  suggestions,  at  last  rose  reso- 
lutely and  announced  that  she  really  must  go  home, 
and  refusing  Barbara's  urgent  offer  of  her  new 
sedan-chair,  declared  she  would  have  Robin's  escort 
and  walk  the  short  distance  to  Lady  Drumloch's 
house. 

"  It  will  be  safer  for  him  to  come  away  now, 
than  to  wait  until  daylight,"  she  said. 

"  It  would  be  safest,  /  think,  for  him  to  stay 
here  for  a  few  days,"  Barbara  proposed  seriously. 
But  the  mutinous  pout,  and  glance  of  arch  defi- 
ance with  which  Prue  received  her  suggestion,  pro- 
voked her  to  hearty  laughter,  and  she  received 
Robin's  thanks  for  her  protection  and  the  farewells 
of  both  her  guests  with  an  air  of  such  thorough 
comprehension,  that  Prue  felt  constrained  to  whis- 
per in  her  ear,  "  I  will  come  to  confession  to-mor- 
row, dear  Gossip,"  and  blushingly  hurried  away  on 
Robia's  arm. 

Late  as  it  was,  they  lingered  on  the  way  and 
managed  to  eke  ten  minutes'  walk  into  forty. 
Robin  had  so  much  to  say  -~~  SQ  many  vows  of 


A  SUPPER  FOR  THREE  295 

eternal  fidelity  to  pledge,  and  such  repeated  assur- 
ances to  give  of  his  swift  return  —  that  it  was  not 
until  a  near-by  church-clock  struck  two,  that  Prue 
quickened  her  steps  a  little,  and  declared  with  a  sigh 
that  the  parting  moment  had  really  come. 

"  You  will  be  careful,  dear  Robin,"  she  pleaded. 
"  Do  not  run  any  risks,  and  if  we  can  not  meet 
again  safely  before  you  leave  for  France,  write  me 
by  some  sure  hand,  and  I  will  do  the  same.  Re- 
member —  I  forbid  you  to  attempt  to  visit  me  — 
but  oh!  I  shall  count  the  hours  until  I  see  you 
again." 

With  the  prospect  of  a  long  and  perhaps  fatal 
parting,  their  farewells  were  not  soon  over;  each 
last  kiss  was  but  an  excuse  for  one  more,  until  the 
tramp  of  the  approaching  night-watch  warned  them 
of  the  danger  of  delay,  and  Prue  tore  herself  from 
his  arms  and  without  trusting  herself  to  a  backward 
glance,  hurried  into  the  house. 


IT  was  Peggie  who,  after  some  hours'  anxious 
watching,  opened  the  door  without  waiting  for 
Prue's  knock.  She  had  long  ago  persuaded  the 
sleepy  and  unreluctant  James  to  retire  to  bed,  and 
settling  herself  beside  the  dim  lamp  with  a  book, 
uncomplainingly  resigned  herself  to  a  tedious  and 
solitary  vigil. 

She  had  passed  an  evening  not  without  excite- 
ment, for  her  grandmother's  searching  and  per- 
sistent inquiries  into  Prue's  mysterious  behavior 
were  not  to  be  evaded,  and  some  kind  of  explana- 
tion was  inevitable.  So,  ingeniously  substituting 
Captain  de  Cliffe,  the  emissary  of  King  James,  for 
Captain  Freemantle,  the  highwayman,  Peggie  ad- 
mitted that  Prue  and  he  had  met  "  in  the  North," 
that  after  his  arrest  she  had  visited  him  in  New- 
gate Prison,  and  that  although  now  an  outlaw  and 
fugitive,  steeped  in  Jacobite  plots  and  charged  with 
state  secrets  and  compromising  documents,  he  had 
played  an  important  part  in  her  recovery  of  the 
queen's  necklace.  In  fact,  she  had  contrived,  with- 
out desperately  straining  the  truth,  to  surround 
Robin  with  an  aura  of  heroism  and  loyalty  that 
had  enlisted  the  old  countess'  sympathy  for  him, 

296 


A  CONFESSION  297 

almost  to  the  extent  of  preparing  her  to  sanction 
Prue's  marriage. 

Having  skilfully  wrought  her  up  to  this  point, 
Peggie  had  retired,  leaving  her  revelations  to  work 
upon  Lady  Drumloch's  long-dormant  but  far  from 
extinct  passion  for  the  cause  which  had  robbed  her 
of  husband,  sons  and  worldly  possessions,  and  left 
her  nothing  for  the  consolation  of  her  declining 
years  but  unrecognized  devotion  to  the  most  un- 
grateful of  dynasties. 

Too  excited  to  think  of  bed,  the  cousins  were 
still  eagerly  exchanging  confidences,  when  Prue 
stopped  abruptly  and  listened.  Peggie  was  hurry- 
ing on  with  her  story,  but  Prue  checked  her  with 
a  warning  hand. 

"  Hark,  Peggie,  did  you  hear  that  ?  Was  it  not 
some  one  knocking  at  our  door  ?  " 

Peggie  listened,  and  the  knocking  was  repeated. 
She  threw  open  the  window,  and  thrusting  her  head 
out,  withdrew  it  after  a  brief  investigation,  with 
the  announcement  that  there  was  a  man  in  the 
street,  looking  up  at  their  lighted  window. 

"Only  one  man?"  queried  Prue.  "Can  it  be 
Robin?" 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Peggie ;  "  it  does  not  seem 
tall  enough  —  this  man  is  —  there  is  the  knocking 
again  —  what  shall  we  do?  " 

"  Something  has  happened  to  Robin ! "  cried 
Prue,  hastily  throwing  a  cloak  about  her.  "  I 
must  go  down  and  see  what  is  the  matter." 

"  I'll  come  with  you,"  cried  Peggie,  impelled 
partly  by  curiosity,  and  partly  by  the  impulse  to 


298       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

protect  her  cousin.  They  ran  down  together,  and 
at  the  door  paused  to  take  counsel.  It  was  no  un- 
common thing  in  those  days  for  the  "  Mohawks  " 
to  batter  thus  at  quiet  citizens'  doors  and  mistreat 
the  person  who  answered  their  summons,  or  even, 
if  a  woman,  to  carry  her  off,  shrieking  and  strug- 
gling. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  Prue  demanded  through  the 
closed  door. 

"  It  is  I,  Steve  Larkyn,"  a  voice  replied.  "  Oh ! 
Mistress  Brooke,  I  beseech  you  open  the  door ;  they 
have  taken  my  master !  " 

Prue  flung  the  door  open,  and  there  stood  Steve, 
ghastly  pale  in  the  broad  moonlight. 

"  They  have  taken  your  master  ?  Then  what  are 
you  doing  here,  alive  and  unhurt  ?  "  she  cried  pas- 
sionately. 

"  Madam,  what  could  one  arm,  and  without  a 
sword,  avail  against  a  dozen  men,  fully  armed? 
The  captain  had  but  time  to  say  to  me,  '  Fly  —  to 
Prudence ! ' —  your  pardon,  but  those  were  his  words 
—  when  they  surrounded  him  and  made  him  pris- 
oner without  a  chance  to  defend  himself." 

"  Oh !  dear  God ! "  murmured  Prue,  covering 
her  face  with  her  trembling  hands.  "  It  is  my 
fault;  if  I  had  left  him  with  Barbara,  he  would 
now  be  safe.  I  brought  him  away  to  his  death  for 
a  jealous  whim!  Where  have  they  taken  him?" 
she  demanded,  looking  at  Steve  with  widely  dis- 
tended eyes.  "To  Newgate?  to  the  Tower?  Tell 
me  and  I  will  go  to  him  and  share  his  prison." 

"  I  don't  know  what  they  mean  to  do  with  him," 


A  CONFESSION  299 

said  Steve,  "  but  they  were  taking  him  to  Lord 
Beachcombe's  house — " 

"  Lord  Beachcombe !  Oh !  I  see  it  all !  This  is 
no  arrest ;  it  is  a  plot  to  rob  and  mayhap  to  murder 
him.  Lord  Beachcombe  fancies  that  he  has  to  deal 
with  a  defenseless  outlaw  and  a  weak  woman.  I 
will  show  him  that  there  are  stronger  weapons  than 
swords  and  bludgeons.  I  will  go  instantly  to  Rod- 
ney House." 

"  Oh !  Prue,  wait  until  morning ! "  implored 
Peggie. 

"  And  give  Lord  Beachcombe  time  to  spirit  Robin 
away  to  some  secret  dungeon,  where  I  may,  perhaps, 
never  find  him  alive  ?  No !  I  will  go  to  him  at  once, 
without  a  moment's  delay." 

"  Then  I  will  go  with  you,"  cried  Peggie.  "  You 
can  not  go  to  Lord  Beachcombe's  house  alone." 

"  Can  not  I  ?  Besides,  I  shall  not  be  alone ;  Steve 
Larkyn  will  escort  me."  She  turned  to  Robin's 
faithful  henchman  with  a  wan  smile.  "  One 
woman  is  enough  for  you  to  take  care  of ;  and  you, 
Peggie,  dear,  will  watch  for  me,  so  that  when  I 
return,  I  can  get  in  without  rousing  the  house. 
Believe  me,  dear,"  she  went  on  firmly,  as  Peggie 
was  about  to  remonstrate,  "  what  I  have  to  do  can 
be  better  done  by  myself  alone ;  and  I  am  not  timid, 
as  you  know." 

"  But,  Prue  —  what  on  earth  can  you  do  for 
Robin,  by  going  to  Lord  Beachcombe  in  the  middle 
of  the  night  ?  "  Peggie  urged,  in  desperation. 

"  That  remains  to  be  seen,"  said  Prue,  with  a 
smile  of  mystery.  "  I  think  I  can  make  Lord 


300       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

Beachcombe  set  him  free,  and  be  grateful  for  the 
chance.  Come,  Steve,"  and  wrapping  her  mantle 
closely  round  her,  she  drew  the  hood  well  over  her 
face,  and  went  out  with  a  resolute  step  into  the 
street,  already  growing  gray  in  the  early  dawn  of 
the  May  morning. 

The  courtyard  of  Rodney  House  was  all  astir 
when  Prudence,  clinging  to  Steve  Larkyn's  arm, 
stole  through  the  great  gateway,  and  under  the  deep 
shadow  of  the  arcade  that  flanked  the  main  en- 
trance. That  was  closed,  but  from  a  low  door  a 
few  feet  away,  a  flood  of  light  poured  upon  a  trav- 
eling carriage  with  four  horses  and  a  group  of 
mounted  men.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation, 
Prue  darted  past  them,  ran  down  a  few  stone  steps 
and  found  herself  in  a  large,  bare  basement  hall, 
where  Robin,  his  dress  in  some  disorder  and  his 
hands  tied  behind  him,  stolidly  confronted  Lord 
Beachcombe  in  a  white  heat  of  fury. 

At  Prue's  sudden  apparition  a  couple  of  servi- 
tors interposed  to  stop  her  and  Lord  Beachcombe, 
in  a  voice  hoarse  with  rage,  shouted,  "  Who  are 
these  people?  What  the  devil  do  they  want? 
Turn  them  out — " 

Prue's  silvery  laugh  rang  out.  "  Not  so  fast !  " 
she  cried,  flinging  back  her  hood.  "  I  have  business 
of  the  utmost  importance  with  Lord  Beachcombe," 
and  she  swept  him  a  mockingly  ceremonious  curtsey. 

No  lady  of  the  court,  not  even  the  great  Duch- 
ess Sarah  herself,  was  better  known  than  the  beau- 
tiful "  Widow  Brooke."  The  sight  of  her  familiar 
face  seemed  to  paralyze  every  one  present.  The 


A  CONFESSION  301 

lackeys  fell  back  abashed,  Robin  gazed  at  her 
speechless,  and  Beachcombe's  sallow  face  flushed 
with  a  purple  that  suffused  even  his  eyeballs. 

"  Viscountess  Brooke !  "  he  stammered.  "  What 
in  the  name — " 

"  You  are  surprised  ?  "  she  interrupted.  "  To 
be  sure,  my  visit  is  somewhat  untimely."  She 
came  close  to  him  and  lowered  her  voice  almost  to 
a  whisper.  "  Did  you  find  what  you  expected 
when  you  searched  Captain  de  Cliffe?"  she  in- 
quired insinuatingly. 

"How  do  you  know  I  searched  him?"  de- 
manded Beachcombe. 

"  Why,  when  one  sees  a  man  with  his  hands 
tied  behind  him  and  his  pockets  inside  out,  it  is 
not  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  he  has  been 
searched.  Yet  I'll  venture  to  say,  Lord  Beach- 
combe,  that  whatever  you  found,  it  was  not  what 
you  were  looking  for !  " 

"How  can  you  know  anything  about  that?"  he 
replied,  with  dawning  suspicion.  "  Perhaps  you 
know  what  it  was  and  where  it  may  be  found?  If 
so,  you  must  be  aware  that  it  has  no  value  except 
to  me  — " 

"  And  Captain  de  Cliffe,"  she  interposed. 

"Captain  de  Cliffe!"  he  repeated,  with  a  bitter 
and  disdainful  emphasis. 

"  What  would  you  have  me  call  him?  "  she  bent 
forward  and  in  a  whisper  suggested,  "  Robert  — 
Earl  Beachcombe  ?  —  is  that  better  ?  " 

The  blood  ebbed  from  his  face,  leaving  it  ghastly 
with  fear  and  fury.  He  cast  a  hasty  glance  to- 


302       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

ward  the  group  of  men  surrounding  Robin,  and 
although  they  were  quite  out  of  earshot,  he  fiercely 
motioned  them  to  a  greater  distance.  Then  he 
pulled  himself  together  sufficiently  to  force  a  sar- 
donic laugh. 

"  Was  it  to  play  comedy  that  your  ladyship  hon- 
ored me  with  this  nocturnal  visit  ?  "  he  sneered. 

"  Not  altogether,"  she  replied.  "  I  came  to  pre- 
vent your  harming  Captain  de  Cliffe,  and,  incident- 
ally, yourself.  Now  tell  me  —  in  confidence  — 
not  haying  found  the  documents  you  sought,  what 
do  you  propose  to  do  with  your  prisoner  ?  " 

"  I  propose,"  said  Beachcombe  slowly,  "  to  hand 
him  over  to  justice.  I  believe  the  —  documents  — 
to  be  lost.  At  any  rate,  I  am  willing  to  hazard  the 
risk  of  their  recovery  in  order  that  this  man  may 
receive  his  deserts  as  a  traitor  and  a  malefactor. 
After  he  has  been  hanged,  there  will  be  plenty  of 
time  for  me  to  deal  with  a  claim  that  has  no  longer 
a  claimant." 

"  And  you  really  hate  him  enough  to  prefer  his 
death  to  your  own  safety  ?  "  Prue  could  not  re- 
press a  shudder  at  the  cold  ferocity  of  his  tone. 

"What  if  I  secure  both?"  he  retorted,  gratified 
by  the  effect  he  had  produced.  "  This  man  is  a 
traitor  and  has  earned  a  traitor's  death.  Although 
I  may  not  have  found  what  I  sought,  I  have  found 
papers  that  will  send  him  to  the  gallows,  and  give 
me  a  claim  to  the  gratitude  of  the  government. 
Do  not  trouble  further  about  him,  his  fate  is 
sealed." 

"  And    how    if    another    claimant,    perhaps    far 


A  CONFESSION  303 

stronger,  should  spring  up  in  his  place?  How  if 
he  leaves  a  widow  ?  "  suggested  Prue.  "  One,  for 
example,  able  and  willing  to  pursue  his  claim  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  uneasy  about  that,"  he  replied,  but 
his  tone  was  less  confident  than  his  words.  "  I 
have  the  best  of  reasons  for  knowing  that  he  is  not 
married." 

"  And  you  think  that  having  no  wife  and  leav- 
ing no  —  heir  —  to  his  claim  (you  acknowledge 
that  he  has  a  claim)  it  will  cease  with  his  death, 
because  there  is  no  one  to  pursue  it?  " 

"  My  dear  Lady  Prudence,  a  lawyer  could  not 
have  put  it  more  clearly!  That  is  exactly  his  po- 
sition; I  think  mine  is  pretty  safe,  even  if  those 
redoubtable  documents  should  still  be  in  existence. 
It  will  then  be  merely  a  matter  of  money  —  some 
one  will  bleed  me  more  or  less  copiously  —  but  that 
will  be  the  end  of  the  trumped-up  claim  of  Cap- 
tain —  Freemantle." 

"  Well,  Lord  Beachcombe,"  said  Prue,  smiling 
up  into  his  face,  "  now  I  ask  you,  as  a  favor  to 
me,  to  liberate  Captain  Freemantle,  and  to  molest 
him  no  further.  I  will  answer  for  it  that  he  will 
leave  the  country  immediately  and  abandon  his 
claim.  Surely,  you  will  not  refuse  a  favor  that  is 
so  hard  to  ask  and  so  easy  to  grant !  " 

Beachcombe  laughed  unpleasantly.  "  Come,  dear 
Viscountess,"  he  said,  and  his  tone,  though  bland, 
was  tinged  with  insolence,  "  I  know  of  old  your 
thirst  for  adventure,  but  surely  it  has  been  slaked 
by  the  romantic  episode  of  the  queen's  necklace 
and  the  mysterious  spiriting-away  of  your  cavalier 


304       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

—  your  Knight  of  the  Road  —  by  Barbara  Sweet- 
ing! The  excitement  of  the  affair  has  evaporated; 
its  novelty  has  staled.  Waste  no  more  of  your  en- 
chanting wiles  on  so  sorry  a  subject.  I  have  made 
up  my  mind,  and  even  for  the  sake  of  the  most 
charming  of  women,  I  will  not  change  it." 

"  Yet  I  think  I  may  induce  you,"  said  Prue 
undauntedly,  "  because  to  my  certain  knowledge 
Captain  de  Cliff e  has  a  wife  and  those  precious 
papers  are  in  her  possession.  She  knows  their 
value,  too,  and  will  only  give  them  up  on  her  own 
terms.  If  you  will  not  grant  me  this  gentleman's 
life  as  a  favor  —  will  you  make  a  bargain  with 
her?" 

Astonishment  and  doubt  struggled  with  Lord 
Beachcombe's  self-command,  but  he  kept  an  un- 
moved face,  although  an  inkling  of  the  truth  began 
to  force  itself  upon  him.  Not  the  whole  incredi- 
ble truth,  of  course,  but  enough  to  make  him  sus- 
pect that  Lady  Prudence  Brooke  was  more  than 
commonly  interested  in  the  subject  of  their  dis- 
cussion. 

"  And  what  might  be  the  terms  of  the  bargain?  " 
he  demanded,  after  a  brief  hesitation. 

"  You  had  better  settle  them  with  Captain  de 
Cliffe,"  she  said,  "  and  I  pledge  my  word  that  his 
wife  will  agree  to  whatever  will  satisfy  him." 

"  I  will  make  no  terms  with  him,"  said  Beach- 
combe  sullenly.  "  If  I  listen  to  any  proposition  it 
is  entirely  for  your  sake,  Lady  Prudence,  and 
must  come  from  you  and  be  carried  out  by  you 
alone." 


A  CONFESSION  305 

She  reflected  a  few  moments,  while  he  watched 
her  intently. 

"  This  is  my  proposal,"  she  said,  at  last.  "  That 
you  will  liberate  your  captive,  giving  him  such  time 
to  reach  a  place  of  safety  as  he  considers  necessary. 
And  that  when  you  have  received  the  packet  you 
will  engage  not  to  take  any  steps  to  prevent  his 
leaving  the  country.  In  return  I  promise  that  his 
wife  will  consider  the  whole  matter  at  an  end,  and 
regard  the  claim  as  though  it  had  never  existed." 

"  And  when  I  have  liberated  him  and  given  him 
every  opportunity  to  elude  justice,  what  security 
have  I  that  those  papers  will  be  delivered  to  me  ?  " 
he  demanded. 

"  I  myself  will  be  hostage  for  him.  Send  Steve 
with  him  and  when  he  returns,  having  left  his  mas- 
ter in  safety,  I  will  hand  you  the  packet.  Does 
that  satisfy  you?  " 

Robin,  sitting  on  the  corner  of  a  table,  a  little 
apart,  could  only  guess  from  a  word  here  and 
there  that  rose  above  the  low-voiced  colloquy,  that 
Prue  was  making  terms  for  him,  the  conditions  of 
which  it  was  not  difficult  to  divine.  Cruelly  as  it 
irked  him  to  see  her  pleading  with  his  bitter  enemy 
for  his  life,  he  resisted  the  strong  temptation  to 
interfere,  as  he  certainly  would  have  done,  could 
he  have  known  that  she  was  offering  to  remain  a 
hostage  to  this  unscrupulous  man,  until  his  safety 
had  been  purchased  by  her  acknowledgment  of 
their  marriage.  She  was  too  well  aware  of  that 
to  admit  him  to  the  conference. 

Lord   Beachcombe,   sullenly  balancing  pros  and 


306       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

cons,  found  it  no  easy  matter  to  decide  between  the 
gratification  of  his  revenge  upon  Robin  and  the 
fear  of  losing  what  might  be  his  last  chance  of 
securing  the  coveted  documents. 

It  is  impossible  to  say  how  long  he  might  have 
fluctuated  between  two  desires  equally  importunate, 
but  it  was  at  last  borne  in  upon  the  sluggish  cur- 
rent of  his  intelligence  that  the  certificates  were 
possibly  that  moment  in  the  possession  of  Lady 
Prudence  Brooke,  who  certainly  would  not  hesitate 
to  use  them  for  his  humiliation  if  he  exasperated 
her. 

"What  will  you  do  if  I  refuse?  "  he  said  at  last. 

"Then,"  said  Prue,  with  spirit,  "I  shall  go 
straight  from  here  to  the  Duchess  of  Marlborough 
and  lay  the  whole  story  —  including  the  documents 
—  before  her.  She  has  pledged  herself  to  grant 
me  any  request  I  make  of  her,  and  will  not  con- 
sider the  life  of  a  highwayman  too  high  a  price 
to  cancel  her  debt  to  me." 

"  The  duchess  is  no  longer  the  power  behind 
the  throne,"  said  Beachcombe,  with  a  scowl.  "  If 
you  rely  upon  her  influence  — " 

"  I  do  not  rely  upon  that  alone''  said  Prue, 
retaining  her  patience  with  the  greatest  difficulty; 
"  I  will  go  to  the  queen  herself  and  plead  with 
her — oh!  when  I  show  her  my  heart,  she  can  not 
resist  the  appeal  of  my  prayers  and  tears — "  She 
forgot  for  the  moment  where  she  was  and  who 
was  her  listener,  and  in  imagination  was  already 
at  the  feet  of  her  royal  mistress.  Beachcombe  re- 
garded the  sapphire  eyes  sparkling  through  unshed 


A  CONFESSION  307 

tears  and  the  piteous  tumult  of  the  lovely  bosom 
beneath  the  laces  of  her  ball-dress,  and  his  pulse 
quickened  dizzily. 

"  If  her  Gracious  Majesty  were  a  king,  I  think 
he  would  give  you  whatever  you  were  pleased  to 
ask,"  he  breathed.  "  Ah !  Prue  — " 

"  And  can  you  refuse  me,  when  with  a  word  you 
can  secure  my  gratitude  —  my  friendship  —  for 
life?  "  She  stretched  out  her  hands  with  a  gesture 
so  alluring,  and  turned  upon  him  a  look  of  such 
compelling  appeal,  as  might  have  melted  even  a 
colder  heart  than  his.  He  could  not  altogether  re- 
sist her,  but  he  still  sought  to  temporize. 

"  You  have  those  —  that  packet?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Yes." 

"  Have  you  examined  the  contents  ?  Surely 
woman's  curiosity  — "  The  lightness  of  his  words 
could  not  veil  the  anxiety  in  his  voice. 

"  The  seals  are  still  unbroken,"  she  assured  him, 
"  and,  if  you  agree  to  my  terms,  will  remain  so 
until  you  break  them  yourself." 

"  But  you  know  somewhat  of  the  contents  ?  No 
doubt,"  with  intense  bitterness,  "  Captain  Free- 
mantle  has  given  you  his  version  of  their  impor- 
tance?" 

"  Whatever  I  know  about  them,  Lord  Beach- 
combe,  will  be  forgotten  —  absolutely  —  from  the 
moment  that  Captain  —  Freemantle  —  is  out  of 
danger." 

Beachcombe  still  hesitated.  His  curiosity  was 
strongly  roused.  He  had  had  more  than  one  ex- 
perience of  Prue's  unbridled  caprice,  but  this  one 


3o8       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

bewildered  him.  He  could  not  grasp  the  only  ex- 
planation; its  improbability  baffled  him.  She  had 
led  so  many  eligible  suitors  —  himself  one  of  them 
—  a  lively  dance  to  the  very  altar-rails ;  was  it 
believable  that  this  man  —  outlaw,  fugitive,  pro- 
scribed, penniless  —  could  have  won  the  wayward 
beauty,  and  won  her  so  completely  that  having 
actually  married  him,  she  was  ready  to  sacrifice 
the  future  she  expected  to  share,  for  his  present 
safety  ? 

"  How  am  I  to  know  that  his  wife,  if  there  be 
such  a  person,  will  keep  the  promises  you  make  for 
her?  "  he  said,  with  his  crafty  eyes  upon  her. 

"I  will  answer  for  his  wife  —  as  for  myself," 
said  Prue.  "  Question  me  no  further,  Lord  Beach- 
combe,  but  accept  my  terms  —  or  refuse  them  if  you 
deem  it  more  to  your  advantage." 

It  is  doubtful  whether  even  then  he  would  have 
taken  the  decisive  step,  but  for  a  sudden  recollec- 
tion that  flooded  his  mind  with  rapture.  If  Prue 
were  married,  Sir  Geoffrey  had  lost  his  bet, 
and  five  thousand  pounds,  plus  a  glorious  revenge, 
would  fall  into  the  hands  of  his  bitter  foe!  Un- 
able to  conceal  his  excitement,  he  seized  Prue's  hand 
and  drew  her  reluctantly  farther  away. 

"Tell  me,"  he  whispered,  "are  you  his  wife? 
If  so,  I  will  make  no  further  demur.  For  your 
sake,"  he  added  as  an  afterthought,  "  I  am  willing 
not  only  to  free  this  —  gentleman  —  but  to  aid  his 
escape,  although,  by  doing  so,  I  play  the  traitor  to 
my  sovereign." 

Prue  gazed  steadily  into  his  eyes,  as  though  she 


A  CONFESSION  309 

would  read  the  depths  of  his  mean  soul.  Then  she 
replied  firmly,  "  I  am  his  wife." 

"  He  is  free !  I  pledge  you  my  word  I  will  not 
pursue  him.  Let  him  go  where  he  pleases;  your 
husband  is  sacred  in  my  eyes."  The  sinister  light 
in  them  was  not  in  accordance  with  the  bland,  con- 
gratulatory smile  that  played  over  his  lips,  as  he 
turned  to  Robin. 

"  The  Lady  Prudence  has  proved  irresistible,  as 
usual,  Captain  Freemantle.  You  are  free.  Take 
my  advice  and  use  your  freedom  to  put  as  many 
leagues  as  possible  between  yourself  and  London. 
/  shall  not  pursue  you,  but  there  are  others  who 
seek  your  life,  on  whom  the  charms  of  Lady  Prue 
might  be  exercised  in  vain.  Untie  his  hands  and 
set  him  free." 

When  he  was  obeyed  and  Robin  had  returned 
his  pockets  to  their  proper  place,  Beachcombe  re- 
stored their  ravished  contents,  reserving  only  one 
object.  With  his  eyes  fastened  upon  that,  Robin 
pocketed  his  well- furnished  purse,  his  handkerchief 
and  other  belongings,  and  then  held  out  his  hand 
once  more. 

"  Your  pardon,  Lord  Beachcombe,  you  have  for- 
gotten my  wallet." 

"  The  contents  of  that  wallet,  Sir  Highwayman, 
concern  matters  of  too  great  importance  for  either 
of  us  to  deal  with.  It  shall  be  placed  in  the  hands 
of  those  most  interested  —  when  you  are  out  of 
their  reach,"  was  the  reply,  pompously  delivered. 

"  I  can  not  leave  this  place  without  that  wallet,'* 
said  Robin  resolutely.  "  It  is  worth  more  than  life 


3io       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

to  me,  and  rather  than  purchase  my  freedom  at  the 
price  of  its  surrender,  I  will  remain  here,  and  risk 
the  worst." 

"  Robin ! "  cried  Prue,  in  a  voice  of  anguish. 
"  Have  pity  on  me  if  not  on  yourself!  " 

"Would  you  have  me  sacrifice  a  hundred  lives 
to  save  my  own?  "  said  Robin  unflinchingly,  though 
pale  to  the  lips.  With  drooping  head  she  sank 
upon  a  bench,  her  courage  for  the  first  time  failing. 
Lord  Beachcombe  looked  from  one  to  the  other 
with  a  scowl  as  black  as  thunder,  then  with  a  sud- 
den impulse  snatched  up  the  wallet  and  almost 
flung  it  into  Robin's  hand. 

"Go!"  he  shouted;  "go  quickly,  before  I  have 
time  to  repent  my  folly,  and  remember  that  other 
swords  will  soon  be  thirsting  for  your  life,"  and 
he  laughed  harshly,  as  he  turned  abruptly  away  and 
walked  to  the  farther  end  of  the  hall. 

Then  Robin  approached  Prue  and  taking  her 
hand,  said  gently,  "  A  thousand  pardons,  dear 
Heart  of  my  heart.  I  must  seem  an  ungrateful 
churl;  but  oh!  if  you  could  know  —  I  will  write  — " 

"Yes,  yes !  "  she  interrupted  feverishly ;  "  but 
now  go  quickly  —  every  moment's  delay  is  fatal 
to  you  —  and  to  me  — "  the  last  words  were  mur- 
mured inaudibly.  "  How  soon  can  you  reach  some 
safe  concealment?" 

"  Very  soon ;  in  less  than  an  hour,"  he  said.  "  I 
leave  you  in  Steve's  care ;  he  will  conduct  you  home 
and  protect  you  with  his  life." 

"  First  you  must  take  him  with  you  and  send 
him  back  when  you  are  on  the  road  to  safety.  I 


A  CONFESSION  311 

have  pledged  your  precious  packet,"  she  said,  smil- 
ing bravely  up  at  him,  "  and  when  Steve  returns 
to  say  you  are  safe,  I  shall  give  it  to  Lord  Beach- 
combe.  It  is  the  price  of  your  ransom." 

"  But  you  — " 

"  Don't  you  yet  understand,"  she  cried  impa- 
tiently, "  that  I  am  like  a  cat  ?  No  matter  where  I 
am  thrown,  I  always  fall  on  my  feet.  Do  not  fear 
for  me,  but  begone,  and  if  you  love  me,  do  not  at- 
tempt to  see  me  again.  Farewell." 

It  was  no  place  for  the  tender  adieux  of  parting 
lovers.  He  pressed  her  hand  passionately  to  his 
lips,  threw  his  cloak  round  him,  and  with  a  brief 
salute  to  Beachcombe  —  who  took  no  notice  of  it  — 
strode  away,  followed  by  Steve. 

When  their  footsteps  ceased  to  reverberate  under 
the  colonnade,  Beachcombe  approached  Prue  with 
a  friendly  smile. 

"  Permit  me,  dear  Viscountess,  to  offer  my  con- 
gratulations," he  said.  "  You  have  indeed  pre- 
pared a  charming  surprise  for  your  friends  —  and 
enemies,  if  one  so  adorable  could  by  any  possibility 
have  any  such." 

Her  answering  laugh  had  the  old  ring  of  sweet, 
contagious  mirth.  "  Circumstances  have  forced 
me  to  reveal  my  secret  rather  prematurely,"  she 
said,  "  but  I  can  trust  your  lordship's  discretion  not 
to  share  it  —  with  my  dear  friends  —  and  ene- 
mies." 

"Oh!  we  will  give  your  husband  time  to  escape 
before  we  impart  the  joyful  news  to — Sir  Geof- 
frey Beaudesert,  for  example !  " 


312       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

Prue  experienced  an  unpleasant  shock  as  he 
pronounced  this  name,  in  a  tone  of  malevolent  tri- 
umph. This  man,  who  had  no  cause  to  love  either 
herself  or  Robin,  evidently  purposed  using  the 
secret  he  had  torn  from  her  in  some  hateful  scheme 
of  retaliation,  of  which  Sir  Geoffrey  was  to  be  the 
victim  and  executioner. 

"Why  Sir  Geoffrey?"  she  murmured,  half  to 
herself. 

"  Because  I  hate  Sir  Geoffrey,"  said  Beachcombe, 
with  cold  bitterness.  "  He  has  insulted  me  and 
triumphed  over  me  —  who  can  know  how  so  well  as 
you  ?  He  has  worsted  me  in  a  duel  and  boasts  that 
he  will  tame  the  lovely  sorceress  who  has  bewitched 
so  many  —  myself  among  them  —  to  their  undoing. 
I  hate  him,  and  I  shall  never  be  satisfied  until  I 
see  him  reft  of  what  I  also  have  lost  —  impov- 
erished —  in  a  debtors'  prison  — "  he  checked  him- 
self at  the  sight  of  the  indignant  horror  his 
words  had  roused.  "  I  can  wait,  however,"  he 
went  on,  less  vehemently.  "  It  will  satisfy  me,  for 
the  present,  to  feel  my  power  over  him,  without 
using  it.  How  can  I  accommodate  your  ladyship 
while  you  wait  for  the  captain's  messenger?  You 
can  not  wait  here;  will  you  honor  me  by  accepting 
the  poor  hospitality  of  my  house  ?  " 

"  I  can  perfectly  well  wait  here,"  she  replied, 
reseating  herself  on  the  bench.  "  Your  countess 
would  be  somewhat  amazed  to  receive  a  visit  from 
me  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  —  in  my  ball- 
dress!  Even  the  Widow  Brooke  must  draw  the 
line  somewhere ! " 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

PREPARATIONS   FOR  A  JOURNEY 

MR.  MOSES  AARONS  sat  in  his  private  of- 
fice. His  pen  hung  idle  between  thumb  and 
finger,  and  for  perhaps  the  first  time  within  his 
memory,  his  thoughts  were  very  far  from  post- 
obit  and  mortgage.  For  once  something  more  en- 
grossing than  money  occupied  his  busy  brain,  and 
calculations  more  abstruse  than  compound  interest 
furrowed  his  brow  and  contracted  his  eyes  into  a 
glittering  line. 

A  night's  reflection,  so  far  from  softening  the 
bitterness  of  his  anger  against  Prue,  had  intensi- 
fied it  to  a  pitch  that  positively  shocked  him. 
While  he  despised  himself  for  the  unaccustomed 
tumult  of  emotion  into  which  he  had  been  plunged, 
he  was  amazed  to  discover  that  the  desire  of  pos- 
session was  vastly  augmented  by  the  obstacle  which 
he  did  not  for  one  moment  dream  of  surmounting. 
He  was  too  shrewd  to  indulge  in  futile  hopes,  but 
he  was  weak  enough  to  crave  after  revenge. 

Only  a  week  ago  she  had  visited  him,  attempt- 
ing to  obtain  a  loan  on  the  announcement  of  her 
speedy  marriage  with  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert. 
Was  it  possible  that  only  a  week  had  passed  since 
she  stood  in  that  very  room,  indignantly  champion- 


314       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

ing  one  lover  and  that  when  she  was  already  married 
to  another?  What  were  women  made  of,  and  who 
could  anticipate  the  caprices  of  creatures  so  irre- 
sponsible? And  yet,  who  could  look  into  her  eyes 
—  those  limpid  sapphires  —  and  not  long  to  look 
again?  Who  could  hear  the  thrilling  voice  and 
gushing  laughter  and  not  listen  ever  after  for  the 
echo  of  that  divine  music?  The  vision  of  that 
lovely  face,  smiling  archly  at  him  over  the  diamonds 
he  had  deemed  irresistible,  floated  before  him  — 
sleeping  and  waking  —  yet  it  never  occurred  to  him 
to  claim  them  back  or  demand  the  payment  he  had 
refused.  More,  far  more  than  that  was  necessary 
to  assuage  the  fury  that  raged  in  his  breast. 

She  had  made  him  suffer,  had  humbled  his  pride, 
befooled  him  and  made  him  ridiculous  in  his  own 
eyes.  For  that  she  must  suffer;  her  pride  must  be 
dragged  in  the  dust,  and  she  who  had  made  sport 
of  hearts  and  reputations  must  find  her  own  in  the 
pillory  of  public  derision. 

The  wife  of  a  highwayman  —  a  malefactor  who 
had  been  sentenced  to  die  for  his  crimes,  and  had 
narrowly  escaped  the  gallows!  Married  in  New- 
gate Prison  by  a  drunken  Fleet-parson  — "  Lady 
Prudence  Freemantle ! "  It  was  incredible !  He 
laughed  at  the  mere  idea,  a  harsh,  croaking  laugh 
more  evil  than  a  curse.  It  would  certainly  be 
enough  to  publish  such  a  mad  freak,  to  cover  the 
perpetrator  with  undying  shame.  But  many  con- 
siderations restrained  him  from  taking  a  promi- 
nent part  in  her  exposure.  Some  one  else  must  be 
employed,  some  one  whom  his  money  could  buy, 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  A  JOURNEY     315 

and  yet  who  would  not  be  suspected  of  too  base  a 
motive. 

Goodridge  was  too  mean  a  tool.  The  indomi- 
table Lady  Prudence  Brooke  would  surely  find  weap- 
ons to  defend  herself  triumphantly  from  so  paltry 
a  foe,  even  could  he  be  brought  to  attack  her,  which 
was  far  from  certain.  Aarons'  thoughts  reverted 
time  and  again  to  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert.  A 
spendthrift  at  his  last  gasp  for  a  guinea,  no  doubt 
he  had  a  price,  though  it  might  be  a  high  one.  The 
money-lender  was  no  miser.  Money  he  worshipped 
less  for  itself  than  for  its  influence,  and  one  factor 
in  his  successful  accumulation  of  vast  wealth,  was 
his  intuitive  knowledge  of  when  to  spend  and  how. 
But  this  was  probably  the  first  occasion  in  his  life 
on  which  he  contemplated  an  outlay,  without  count- 
ing the  cost  or  discounting  the  return. 

How  could  he  buy  Sir  Geoffrey,  and  how  could 
he  use  him?  And  in  the  first  place,  how  could 
he  reach  him  without  arousing  suspicion  as  to  his 
own  motive? 

Aarons  threw  down  his  pen,  and  leaving  word 
that  he  would  be  back  in  about  an  hour,  went  on' 
'Change,  in  hopes  of  diverting  his  mind  by  the 
exciting  scenes  of  "  Bubble  "  speculation,  then  at 
its  frenzied  height.  But  his  mind  was  out  of  tune 
to  its  ordinary  interests,  and  within  the  appointed 
time  he  returned.  At  his  office  door  stood  a  hand- 
some chariot,  and  with  boundless  satisfaction,  he 
recognized  Sir  Geoffrey's  liveries. 

Within,  impatiently  pacing  the  narrow  office,  he 
found  the  man  he  was  so  anxious  to  see. 


316       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

During  the  few  minutes  he  consumed  in  slowly 
mounting  the  stairs,  Aarons  had  resumed  complete 
mastery  over  himself.  He  was  again  the  smooth, 
wily,  impenetrable  man  of  affairs,  equally  prepared 
to  baffle  the  craft  of  his  clients  or  profit  by  their 
lack  of  it. 

"  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert !  This  is  an  unex- 
pected honor,"  he  said.  "  I  trust  I  have  not  kept 
you  waiting  long?" 

"  Time  is  always  long  when  one  is  waiting  for 
so  dear  a  friend,  Mr.  Aarons,"  replied  Sir  Geoffrey, 
in  his  jauntiest  manner. 

"  Pray  be  seated,"  said  Aarons,  indicating  the 
only  easy  chair,  and  taking  his  usual  place  at  the 
desk.  "  You  are  well,  I  can  see  for  myself.  How 
goes  the  wooing  of  the  fair  viscountess?  " 

"  The  wooing  speeds  gloriously,"  said  Sir  Geof- 
frey, "  but  the  wheels  of  Hymen's  chariot  do  not 
run  fast  enough  to  satisfy  an  impatient  lover. 
Truth  to  tell,  they  need  greasing,  and  that  quickly. 
Women  are  proverbially  fickle  and  I  would  fain 
secure  my  lady  while  she  is  in  a  yielding  mood." 

Aarons  with  difficulty  repressed  a  sneer.  This 
fatuity  at  the  same  time  gratified  him  and  excited 
his  contemptuous  amusement. 

"  The  Lady  Prudence  has  great  temptations,"  he 
said  suavely.  "  I  understand  that  there  are  sev- 
eral rivals  in  your  honor's  way.  With  high  titles 
and  vast  fortunes  at  her  feet,  I  do  not  wonder  at 
your  eagerness  to  secure  the  prize  before  it  is 
snatched  from  you.  Yet  without  ready  money  — " 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  A  JOURNEY     317 

he  shook  his  head  regretfully  as  fie  met  Sir  Geof- 
frey's clouded  eyes. 

"  You  will  not  believe  in  the  wealth  of  old  Lady 
Drumloch  without  positive  proof,  I  suppose?"  the 
baronet  hinted,  "  yet  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor 
that  my  information  is  from  a  source  impossible  to 
discredit.  And  furthermore,  I  shall  receive  five 
thousand  guineas  on  the  day  I  marry  Lady  Prudence 
• — entirely  independent  of  the  fortune  she  will  in- 
herit from  her  grandmother." 

"  Is  it  possible  ? "  exclaimed  Aarons.  "Five 
thousand  guineas  on  her  wedding-day!  I  was  not 
aware  of  this  change  in  her  fortunes,  and  yet," 
an  idea  struck  him  suddenly,  "to  tell  you  the  truth 
—  this  is  in  sacred  confidence  between  us,  Sir  Geof- 
frey—  yesterday  I  returned  her  ladyship's  neck- 
lace which  I  have  held  as  security  for  moneys  ad- 
vanced a  long  time  ago,  and  I  have  reason  to  know 
that,  although  she  tried  to  borrow  from  me  last 
week,  she  now  has  money  to  redeem  her  diamonds, 
and  tossed  hundred-pound  notes  about  like  curl- 
papers ! " 

Sir  Geoffrey's  eyes  sparkled.  "  What  did  I 
tell  you?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Who  but  Lady  Drum- 
loch  can  have  redeemed  her  diamonds  (I  saw  them 
on  her  fair  neck  last  night)  and  paid  her  debts? 
The  old  lady  has  done  it  before,  and  can  do  it 
again.  Come,  Aarons,  open  your  heart  and  your 
purse-strings,  and  let  me  have  a  few  hundreds  on 
my  note-of-hand,  if  you  will  not  increase  the  mort- 
gage. I'll  pay  you  out  of  the  five  thousand  guineas 


318       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

—  that's  a  positive   certainty  —  the   day   I   marry 
Lady  Prue." 

"  And  suppose  —  I  arn  bound  to  be  cautious  — 
suppose,  by  any  chance,  you  should  not,  after  all, 
marry  the  viscountess  ?  " 

"  I  will  marry  her,  if  I  have  to  carry  her  off 
by  force ! "  cried  Sir  Geoffrey,  suddenly  savage. 
"  She  shall  not  jilt  me,  by  Heaven !  or  if  she 
does,  no  other  man  shall  care  to  take  her  after- 
ward!" 

Secretly  delighted  at  this  outburst  of  ferocity, 
Aarons  assumed  a  deprecatory  air,  and  with  up- 
lifted hands,  entreated  his  visitor  to  be  calm. 

"  We  all  know,"  he  said  insinuatingly,  "  how 
dearly  the  ladies  love  to  think  that  they  have  been 
won  in  spite  of  themselves.  The  most  tricksey  of 
coquettes  may  turn  out  the  meekest  and  most  de- 
voted of  wives  to  the  man  who  has  the  courage  to 
prove  himself  master.  At  least,  so  I  have  heard, 
but  of  course  I  should  not  presume  to  advise  so 
experienced  a  lady-killer  as  Sir  Geoffrey  Beau- 
desert." 

"  Well,  Aarons,  if  you  will  furnish  the  sinews  of 
war,  I  will  undertake  to  carry  the  citadel  by  storm. 
A  few  hundreds  for  a  week  or  less,  and  if  I  fail 
you  may  clap  me  in  the  Fleet,  an'  you  will,  and  put 
everything  I  possess  under  the  hammer." 

Aarons  still,  for  the  sake  of  form,  protested,  but 
allowed  himself  to  be  coaxed  and  reasoned  into 
a  compliant  mood,  and  finally  accepted  Sir  Geof- 
frey's note  for  a  substantial  sum,  on  the  tacit  under- 
standing that,  by  fair  means  or  foul,  the  Lady 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  A  JOURNEY     319 

Prudence  Brooke  was  to  be  made  Lady  Beaudesert 
without  loss  of  time. 

Leaving  the  money-lender  to  gloat  over  the 
unexpectedly  efficient  tool  he  had  found  for  his 
vengeance,  and  to  wonder  whether  Prue  would 
confess  her  reckless  marriage  and  take  the  conse- 
quences, or  defy  Sir  Geoffrey  and  drive  him  to 
extremities,  the  latter  made  his  way  westward  with 
all  speed.  Although  the  hour  was  still  early  for 
social  calls,  he  presented  himself  at  Lady  Drum- 
loch's  and  learning  that  Prue  was  somewhat  in- 
disposed and  had  not  yet  risen,  left  a  message  that 
he  would  return  later,  and  having  still  some  hours 
to  spare  before  his  parliamentary  duties  claimed  his 
brief  and  perfunctory  attendance,  repaired  to  the 
Cocoa-Tree. 

With  a  pocketful  of  crisp  bank-notes,  the  card- 
table  irresistibly  attracted  him,  and  finding,  as  he 
expected,  a  little  coterie  of  congenial  spirits,  he 
passed  a  pleasant  and  profitable  hour  or  two  with 
the  luck  steadily  on  his  side.  Then,  flushed  with 
victory  and  in  something  of  a  boastful  humor,  he 
ran  almost  into  the  arms  of  Lord  Beachcombe,  on 
his  way  out. 

"  Your  pardon,  my  Lord !  "  he  cried,  retreating 
a  step,  and  bowing  low ;  "  'tis  a  pity  you  were  not 
here  sooner.  Nat  Bedloe  and  Lord  Eustace  have 
been  throwing  dice,  and  the  ace  came  up  sixteen 
times  running!  'Gad  I  never  saw  such  a  thing 
before." 

"  I  never  throw  dice  —  can't  see  any  sport  in  it," 
drawled  Beachcombe ;  "  but  that  must  have  been 


320       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

worth  seeing.  Have  you  been  playing?  With 
your  usual  good  luck,  no  doubt  ?  " 

Sir  Geoffrey  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I  must 
make  the  most  of  my  few  remaining  days  of  bach- 
elor freedom,"  he  said.  "  I  intend  to  settle  down 
when  I  am  married,  and  become  a  model  man  of 
family.  But  I  am  still  a  gay  bachelor,  and  very 
much  at  your  service  at  the  club  or  elsewhere." 

"  You  forget  that  /  am  already  married  —  and 
a  father,  no  less ! "  Beachcombe  replied,  in  his 
friendliest  manner.  "  Still,  I  have  not  entirely 
given  up  worldly  pleasures.  I  still  book  a  little 
wager  from  time  to  time,  and  as  my  lady  has  a 
passion  for  Ombre,  she  can  not  grumble  if  I  still  take 
a  hand  at  ecarte  or  whist.  Is  your  wedding-day 
fixed?  No  doubt  the  marriage  of  so  charming  and 
popular  a  lady  as  the  Viscountess  Brooke  will  be  a 
brilliant  function.  All  the  court  will  wish  to  do 
her  honor;  perhaps  even  her  Gracious  Majesty  in- 
tends to  be  present?  " 

"  I  fear  that  the  state  of  her  grandmother's 
health  will  prevent  Lady  Prue's  indulging  her 
natural  desire  to  shine  on  this  occasion.  As  the 
old  lady's  heiress,  of  course  she  can  not  risk  offend- 
ing her;  even  at  the  last  minute  wills  may  be 
changed  and  fortunes  lost  for  a  trifle." 

"  Ha !  is  the  venerable  countess  so  wealthy  as 
to  make  her  will  a  matter  of  importance?  Yet  she 
passes  for  poor,  and  when  I  was  —  when  I  had 
the  privilege  of  standing  in  your  present  enviable 
relations  to  Lady  Prue,  she  assured  me  —  yet 
these  old  women  are  often  miserly  —  no  doubt  she 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  A  JOURNEY     321 

will  give  the  world  a  surprise  when  her  hoards  are 
unearthed.  I  congratulate  you  upon  your  pros- 
pects! A  bride  so  incomparable  and  a  great  for- 
tune to  boot!  You  are  indeed  the  favored  of  the 
gods!  With  such  a  prize  in  your  grasp,  you  will 
scarcely  think  it  worth  while  to  remember  our  little 
wager." 

"  Five  thousand  guineas  will  come  in  very  handy 
to  start  housekeeping ! "  cried  Sir  Geoffrey  gaily. 
His  laugh  was  echoed  with  a  boisterous  merriment 
that  startled  him  like  an  explosion.  Lord  Beach- 
combe  was  so  little  given  to  mirth,  his  laughter  was 
so  noiseless  and  so  rarely  responsive  to  another 
man's  hilarity,  that  the  jovial  shouts  and  gleeful 
contortions  with  which  he  received  Sir  Geoffrey's 
retort  would  have  disturbed  less  susceptible  nerves 
than  his. 

The  sinister  sounds  rang  in  his  ears  all  the  after- 
noon as  he  sat  through  a  dreary  debate  which  did 
not  interest  the  few  members  present  sufficiently  to 
interrupt  the  general  conversation.  What  was 
Lord  Beachcombe  laughing  at?  he  asked  himself 
a  hundred  times,  with  ever-increasing  irritation. 
He  was  not  a  man  to  take  the  loss  of  a  large  sum 
of  money  cheerfully.  Yet  it  was  impossible  for 
him  to  have  any  suspicion  of  a  serious  impediment 
to  the  marriage.  Still,  Sir  Geoffrey  decided  that 
delay  was  perilous  and  a  secret  known  to  five  per- 
sons has  fifty  loop-holes  to  escape  through,  so  for 
a  vast  number  of  reasons  Prue  must  be  induced, 
by  fair  means,  if  possible  —  but  somehow,  anyhow 
—  to  marry  him  immediately. 


322       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

To  reassure  himself,  Sir  Geoffrey  carefully  read 
the  record  of  the  wager  and  satisfied  himself  that 
it  merely  required  him  to  marry  Lady  Prudence 
Brooke  within  one  month  of  a  certain  date.  There 
was  no  stipulation  of  what  kind  of  marriage  it 
should  be,  and  even  should  it  be  contested  later, 
Lord  Beachcombe  could  not  repudiate  a  wager  that 
had  been  settled,  even  if  the  method  of  winning  it 
were  open  to  criticism.  He  heartily  cursed  Robin 
for  failing  to  be  hanged  according  to  reliable  cal- 
culations, and  was  even  inclined  to  blame  Prue 
for  lack  of  foresight,  but  he  pooh-poohed  the  pos- 
sibility of  danger  in  ignoring  the  Newgate  wed- 
ding and  the  idea  of  Robin  as  a  serious  rival 
brought  a  contemptuous  sneer  to  his  lips. 

At  the  first  opportunity  he  slipped  away  and  hur- 
ried back  to  Mayfair,  where  he  found  Prue  and 
Peggie  in  a  state  of  pleasurable  excitement,  and 
the  anteroom  thronged  with  milliners  and  mercers 
as  in  the  early  times  of  Lady  Prue's  lively  widow- 
hood, 

Surrounded  by  obsequious  tradesmen,  anxious  to 
atone  for  their  late  importunities  by  reckless  offers 
of  unlimited  credit  to  the  reinstated  favorite,  Prue 
was  in  her  element.  Over  her  graceful  shoul- 
ders a  chattering,  little  Frenchwoman  draped  a 
filmy  scarf,  while  gloves  and  ribbons,  sacks  and 
"  heads,"  silken  hose  and  rainbow  stuffs  were 
spread  before  her  on  every  side  and  half-a-dozen 
voices,  raised  in  laudation  of  these  and  other  wares 
too  numerous  to  mention,  filled  the  air  with  con- 
fusion. 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  A  JOURNEY     323 

Barbara  Sweeting,  as  high-priestess  of  fashion, 
criticized,  selected,  condemned  and  approved,  while 
Lady  Drumloch,  installed  on  her  favorite  sofa, 
half -buried  in  her  choicest  cashmeres,  voiced  an  oc- 
.casional  opinion  in  her  crisp,  decisive  way,  to  which 
Prue  gave  more  than  usual  heed. 

"  A  fair  day  to  you,  ladies !  "  cried  Sir  Geof- 
frey. "  I'  faith,  I  feel  like  a  stag-beetle  among 
the  butterflies."  He  bent  over  Prue  as  though 
examining  a  trinket  in  her  hand.  "  Are  you  choos- 
ing the  nuptial  garments,  dearest?"  he  whispered. 
"  May  I  have  a  voice  in  the  selection?  " 

"What  do  you  think  of  this?"  she  replied,  indi- 
cating a  skirt  ruffled  to  the  waist  and  surmounted 
by  full  paniers  of  brocade  stiff  with  silver  embroid- 
ery. "  'Tis  the  latest  from  France  and  vastly  be- 
coming to  a  slender  shape.  I  shall  be  glad  of 
advice  as  I  have  but  little  time  for  selection.  The 
queen's  physicians  have  hurried  her  off  to  Tun- 
bridge  and  she  is  even  now  on  the  road.  The 
royal  command  to  attend  her  there  without  loss  of 
time  reached  me  but  an  hour  ago,  and  to-morrow 
I  must  follow  post-haste,  so  I  am  just  gathering 
a  few  necessaries.  Barbara,  would  you  decide  on 
that  blue  train  or  do  you  think  the  pink  stripe 
will  go  better  with  the  silver-gray  ?  " 

"  What   are   you   going  to   do   with   that   lace 
flounce?"    interposed    Peggie.     "You    ought    to 
trim  the  silver  brocade  with  it;  it  is  too  lovely  for 
a  petticoat." 

"  Lady  Drumloch's  lace !  "  cried  Barbara,  pounc- 
ing on  it  with  cries  of  ecstasy.  "  I  protest  'tis  the 


324       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

finest  I  ever  beheld !  You  should  keep  it  for  your 
wedding-dress,  Prue." 

Prue  glanced  at  her  grandmother,  and  the  slight 
smile  that  passed  between  them  caused  Sir  Geoffrey 
an  uneasy  thrill,  though  he  could  not  have  explained 
why. 

"  I  wish  Prue  to  look  her  best,"  said  the  old 
lady.  "  It  is  a  great  opportunity  for  her  to  be  in 
waiting  upon  the  queen  at  this  particular  time. 
Her  Majesty  is  to  be  kept  very  quiet  on  account 
of  her  gout  and  few  people  will  have  access  to  her ; 
Prue  may  be  fortunate  enough  to  become  indispen- 
sable, and  the  queen  can  be  very  indulgent  to  those 
who  win  her  favor." 

"  And  after  Tunbridge  there  will  be  a  summer 
at  Windsor,  I  hope,"  said  Prue,  "  and  mayhap 
a  few  weeks  at  Bath  —  and  who  can  tell  what  may 
happen  before  next  winter  ?  " 

Barbara,  nothing  loath,  chimed  in  with  various 
suggestions,  by  no  means  calculated  to  soothe  Sir 
Geoffrey's  temper,  which  by  this  time  was  almost 
out  of  control.  This  was  what  a  man  might  expect 
who  built  his  hopes  on  a  shallow  coquette  without 
a  thought  above  frills  and  furbelows,  and  entirely 
devoid  of  a  proper  sense  of  duty  to  her  future  lord ! 
He  felt  that  to  subdue  her  tricksy  spirit  was  a 
sacred  duty,  and  that  any  means  would  be  justified 
with  such  a  laudable  aim  in  view. 

"  Do  you  actually  leave  for  the  Wells  to-mor- 
row?" he  inquired.  "Is  it  possible  for  such  elab- 
orate preparations  to  be  so  quickly  achieved  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  must  do  the  best  I  can,"  she  replied 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  A  JOURNEY     325 

regretfully.  "  This  silver  brocade  can  be  fitted  to 
me  in  a  couple  of  hours.  Mrs.  Buckram  has  all 
her  women  at  work  upon  a  couple  of  morning 
frocks  and  a  traveling  dress,  and  with  those  I  must 
be  content.  There  will  be  no  court  at  any  rate  for 
a  few  days  and  I  am  not  journeying  into  a  desert. 
London  is  not  inaccessible,  nor  is  there  a  better  mil- 
liner here  than  little  Madame  Prim  on  Tunbridge 
High  Street.  Yes,  my  post-chaise  is  ordered  for 
to-morrow  morning,  and  I  shall  start  at  nine  o'clock 
if  I  have  to  go  barefoot  and  bareheaded." 

"  Might  I  be  permitted  to  offer  you  the  use  of 
my  chariot?  Posting  is  far  from  agreeable  or  safe 
in  a  hired  rattletrap." 

She  gave  him  an  arch  glance.  "  A  thousand 
thanks !  "  she  laughed,  "  but  I  am  growing  wise 
in  my  old  age,  and  I  fear  that  there  would  be  a 
rare  wagging  of  tongues  should  I  be  known  to 
travel  in  Sir  Geoffrey  Beaudesert's  coach." 

"  I  regret  deeply  that  no  service  I  can  offer  is 
acceptable  to  you,  my  dear  L^dy  Prudence,"  said  Sir 
Geoffrey,  with  grave  dignity.  "  Yet  I  pray  you  to 
remember  that  should  you  find  yourself  in  any  un- 
pleasant predicament,  there  is  a  sword  at  your  serv- 
ice and  a  hand  not  unaccustomed  to  use  it  —  for 
that  purpose." 

Her  eyes  fell  and  he  was  gratified  to  observe  a 
passing  embarrassment  in  her  manner.  Taking  the 
propitious  moment  for  his  departure,  he  rose,  and 
while  bending  over  her  hand,  murmured,  "  Have 
you  forgotten  that  you  promised  me  a  favorable 
answer  in  a  week?  " 


326       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  If  I  mistake  not  I  said  that  '  on  my  return,'  I 
would  hope  to  be  ready  with  my  answer.  You  see 
for  yourself  that  my  return  is  uncertain;  but  when 
it  takes  place  I  promise  not  to  keep  you  in  sus- 
pense. Do  not  forget  that  in  the  meantime  you 
are  free  to — " 

"  Free  to  blow  my  brains  out,  if  you  drive  me 
to  despair,"  he  interrupted,  in  a  low,  tense  tone. 
"  But  not  until  I  have  exhausted  every  other  means 
of  bringing  you  to  reason,  dear  Lady  Prue.  Tun- 
bridge  is  not  at  the  other  end  of  the  world,  and  as 
you  may  see  me  sooner  than  you  expect,  I  will  not 
say  farewell,  but  —  Until  our  next  happy  meeting!  " 

Something  in  his  manner  restrained  the  petulant 
rejoinder  that  rose  to  her  lips,  and  she  allowed  him 
to  kiss  her  hand  in  silence.  He  lingered  a  few 
minutes  beside  Lady  Drumloch,  inquiring  after  her 
health  and  condoling  with  her  approaching  loss  of 
Prue's  delightful  company,  and  then,  with  a  few 
passing  compliments  to  Peggie  and  a  brief  skirmish 
with  Barbara,  he  bowed  himself  out  with  consum- 
mate aplomb. 

"  Dear  Gossip,"  said  Barbara,  when  he  was  out 
of  hearing,  "  be  on  your  guard ;  there  goes  one 
who  will  not  wear  his  willow  submissively." 

"  He  must  wear  it  as  he  pleases,"  she  replied, 
"  or  not  at  all  if  he  prefer.  I  protest  I'll  not  con- 
tradict him,  if  it  suits  him  to  say  he  jilted  me." 

"Is  his  successor  chosen?"  queried  Barbara 
archly.  "  Do  I  know  him  ?  —  is  he  — " 

"  There  is  no  successor,"  Prue  interrupted  hastily ; 
"  no  more  lovers  for  me.  I  am  sick  of  courting 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  A  JOURNEY     327 

and  compliments,  sick  to  death  of  '  hearts  at  my 
feet '  and  *  swords  at  my  service,'  and  tongues  more 
false  than  the  one  and  sharper  than  the  other 
ready  and  waiting  to  stab  me  in  the  back ;  or,  worse 
still,  in  the  reputation !  " 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

A  DIFFERENT    HIGHWAYMAN 

AFTER  all,  Prue's  departure  was  by  no  means 
as  early  as  she  had  intended.  Quite  a  num- 
ber of  little  hindrances  contributed  to  the  delay. 
An  indispensable  garment  was  not  forthcoming 
at  the  promised  time,  another  must  absolutely  be 
altered  at  the  last  minute.  Messengers  were  de- 
spatched in  hot  haste  for  trifles  unaccountably  for- 
gotten, and  lingered  upon  their  errands  in  the  most 
provoking  way.  And  when,  at  last,  the  packing 
was  finished,  Prue  disappeared  into  her  grand- 
mother's chamber  and  remained  so  long  in  confer- 
ence there,  that  Peggie,  on  guard  to  ward  off 
interruptions,  at  last  ventured  to  knock  at  the  door 
and  suggest  that  noon  was  swiftly  approaching. 

Receiving  no  reply,  she  gently  opened  the  door, 
and  there  was  Prue,  at  Lady  Drumloch's  feet, 
weeping  bitterly,  while  the  old  lady  comforted  her 
with  caresses  and  tender  words. 

"  I  do  not  blame  you,  child,"  Peggie  overheard 
her  say ;  "  a  brave  man  and  a  loyal  soldier  —  what 
better  could  any  woman  hope  for?  Let  him  serve 
his  king  first,  and  meanwhile  your  influence  may, 
perhaps,  open  the  way  for  his  return.  And  may- 
hap I  may  find  a  way  to  help  you,  though  I  am 

328 


A  DIFFERENT  HIGHWAYMAN      329 

very  old  and  useless  now.  Come  in,  Peggie;  don't 
stand  there  letting  in  the  draft.  Is  it  time  for  Pnie 
to  depart?  Is  the  poat-chaise  ready  packed?" 

Peggie  exclaimed  and  ran  out  to  find  that  the 
post-chaise  had  not  yet  arrived.  Then  there  was 
scurrying  and  scampering,  and  James,  bareheaded 
and  bereft  of  his  stately  deliberation,  hurried  to  the 
livery-stable,  and  presently  returned  in  the  belated 
vehicle.  The  postboy,  with  many  oaths  and 
strange-sounding  asseverations,  protested  that  his 
master  had  mistaken  the  order  for  noon,  and  that 
he  had  been  loitering  about  the  yard  all  morning, 
waiting  for  the  appointed  time.  Another  explana- 
tion might  have  been  afforded  by  Sir  Geoffrey 
Beaudesert,  who  could  also  have  cleared  up  the 
mysterious  presence  of  two  golden  guineas  in  the 
postboy's  pocket. 

Thus  it  was  within  an  hour  or  so  of  noon,  when 
Prue,  having  received  Lady  Drumloch's  blessing 
and  exchanged  many  kisses  and  last  words  with 
Peggie  (from  whom  she  had  rarely  been  parted 
even  for  a  week  at  a  time),  took  her  seat  in  the 
post-chaise  with  her  two  substantial  leather  valises 
strapped  on  the  roof  and  her  valuables  in  the  dress- 
ing-case under  her  feet 

She  had  often  traveled  the  Tunbridge  Road  be- 
fore in  attendance  upon  Queen  Anne,  whose  physi- 
cians were  in  the  habit  of  recommending  the 
Tunbridge  waters  as  a  corrective  to  the  royal  in- 
dulgence in  the  pleasures  of  the  table.  So  when 
she  had  amused  herself  by  observing  the  queer  little 
stalls  on  London  Bridge,  where  the  closely  packed 


330       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

throng  compelled  the  chaise  to  proceed  at  a  foot- 
pace, and  wondered  why  everybody  and  everything 
looked  so  strange  and  different  in  Southwark,  from 
those  on  the  more  fashionable  side  of  the  river, 
she  soon  grew  tired  of  the  squalid  streets  and  dreary 
country  beyond  and  still  more  bored  by  having  no 
one  to  talk  to,  and  composing  herself  in  a  corner 
of  the  carriage,  courted  such  uneasy  slumber  as  the 
rough  road  permitted. 

During  the  earlier  stages  of  the  journey  there 
was  no  lack  of  company.  In  those  days  travelers, 
unless  well  armed  or  otherwise  protected,  were 
greatly  averse  to  solitude  even  in  broad  daylight, 
and  Prue,  though  far  from  timid,  was  not  dis- 
pleased to  find  that  the  queen's  visit  to  Tunbridge, 
in  the  balmy  springtime,  was  drawing  thither  quite 
a  rush  of  visitors. 

Gallants  on  horseback,  lumbering  family-coaches 
and  dashing  chariots  followed  one  another  in  quick 
succession,  some  forging  ahead,  only  to  be  over- 
taken, perhaps,  in  a  ditch  with  a  wheel  off,  or  at 
the  post-house  waiting  for  relays  —  a  mishap  that 
kept  Prue  waiting  a  couple  of  hours  at  Seven 
Oaks,  to  her  great  chagrin.  However,  the  inn  was 
hospitable  and  a  good  dinner  compensated  in  some 
measure  for  the  delay,  though  the  afternoon  shad- 
ows were  perceptibly  lengthening  when  the  journey 
was  resumed. 

The  road  was  more  lonely  now,  those  lucky 
folk  who  had  secured  the  earliest  relays  having 
hurried  forward  to  make  the  most  of  the  daylight, 
and  others,  whose  turn  was  yet  to  come,  lingering 


A  DIFFERENT  HIGHWAYMAN      331 

impatiently  behind  or  resigning  themselves  to  the 
dire  alternative  of  spending  a  night  at  the  inn. 

When  Prue,  after  the  first  mile  or  so,  put  her 
head  out  of  the  window  and  surveyed  the  long 
stretch  of  road,  with  dense  woods  on  one  hand  and 
a  desolate  vastness  of  uncultivated  common  on  the 
other,  she  rather  wished  that  she  too  had  taken 
the  better  part  of  valor  and  broken  her  journey 
at  Seven  Oaks,  instead  of  risking  the  worst  part  in 
the  declining  day.  However,  looking  back,  she 
saw  another  carriage  at  no  great  distance,  and  the 
sense  of  companionship  relieved  her  fears  so  thor- 
oughly that  she  once  more  settled  herself  in  her 
corner  and  fell  into  a  pleasant  train  of  thought. 

Planning  how  to  exercise  her  most  winning  arts 
upon  the  queen,  who  for  a  whole  week  of  semi- 
invalidism  would  be  chiefly  dependent  upon  her  for 
amusement,  Prue  mentally  acted  half-a-dozen 
charming  little  scenes  in  which  she  would  relate 
Robin's  adventures  in  so  moving  and  pathetic  a 
fashion  that  the  queen  would  be  only  too  ready 
to  applaud  the  climax  and  bestow  her  sanction  and 
blessing  upon  the  romantic  pair.  Robin  would  be 
recalled  and  pardoned,  and  perhaps  his  devotion, 
combined  with  her  own  eloquence,  would  bring 
about  a  reconciliation  between  the  queen  and  her 
half-brother,  who,  in  gratitude,  would  shower  hon- 
ors upon  his  loyal  follower  in  the  happy  days  when 
King  James  the  Third  was  come  into  his  own. 

Prue  was  roused  out  of  these  pleasant  fancies 
by  the  rough  jolting  of  the  chaise.  She  looked  out 
on  the  desolate  landscape,  rendered  still  more 


332       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

dreary  by  the  rising  mist  that  veiled  the  sinking 
sun.  On  one  hand  was  a  vast  common,  stretching 
away  into  the  vague  distance,  on  the  other  rose  a 
steep  incline,  thickly  wooded  and  already  gloomy 
with  twilight  shadows,  though  all  else  was  still 
bright.  No  habitation  was  in  sight,  nor  any  sign 
of  life  except  the  carriage  she  had  previously  ob- 
served and  which,  she  remarked  with  some  sur- 
prise, kept  almost  within  hailing  distance  without 
any  apparent  haste  to  overtake  her.  She  reflected 
that  perhaps  the  occupant  was  timid  and  even  more 
anxious  for  company  than  herself. 

The  jolting  and  rocking  of  the  chaise  increased 
so  much  that  at  last  Prue  let  down  the  front  win- 
dow and  remonstrated  with  the  postboys. 

"  Pray  drive  a  little  less  recklessly,"  she  cried ; 
"  I  can  not  keep  my  seat  and  I  fear  you  will  land 
me  in  a  ditch." 

"  Tis  a  bad  piece  of  road,  my  Lady,"  replied  the 
senior,  bringing  his  horses  to  a  standstill.  "  'Ere, 
Jimmie,"  he  added  to  his  assistant ;  "  'old  the  'orses 
while  I  looks  to  that  near  hind  wheel;  'tain't  none 
too  staunch  and  this  cursed  cross-road  is  enough 
to  shake  the  Lord  Mayor's  coach  to  splinters." 

"  Cross-road !  "  cried  Prue.  "  Have  you  left 
the  highway — ?  in  the  dusk  —  ?"  she  was  about 
to  descend,  scarcely  knowing  what  she  did  in  her 
sudden  alarm. 

"  Keep  your  seat,  Lady,"  the  man  replied ;  "  'tis 
but  a  bit  of  a  short-cut  I  took,  to  save  'alf-an-hour 
'cos  it's  growin'  late."  He  fumbled  a  little  with 
the  hind  wheel  and  then  remounted  his  horse. 


A  DIFFERENT  HIGHWAYMAN      333 

Meanwhile  the  carriage  which  had  followed  passed 
and  went  ahead  in  leisurely  fashion. 

Prue's  post-chaise  resumed  the  journey,  more 
shaky  and  jerky  than  before,  although  scarcely 
moving  at  a  walking  pace.  Very  wide-awake  now, 
and  extremely  uneasy  with  vivid  recollections  of 
postboys  in  league  with  robbers,  and  other  perils 
to  unprotected  females,  Prue  sat  as  quiet  as  the 
rough  jolting  would  allow  and  tried  to  comfort 
herself  with  the  assurance  that  the  next  post-house 
could  not  be  far  distant,  and  that  she  could  cer- 
tainly find  means  there  to  have  the  wheels  looked 
to  or  get  another  chaise  if  this  one  were  unsafe. 

But  scarcely  a  hundred  yards  farther  on  there 
was  a  crash  and  a  shock  and  Prue  was  lying  in 
a  heap  in  the  overturned  chaise.  The  shouts  of  the 
postboys,  the  trampling  of  the  startled  horses  min- 
gled with  her  screams  of  pain  and  terror  —  then 
other  voices  added  to  the  tumult  and  in  the  midst 
of  it  all  the  door  was  forced  open  and  Prue  lifted 
out  and  gently  deposited  on  the  roadside. 

"  The  lady  has  fainted,"  said  a  voice  that 
sounded  familiar.  "  Search  for  water,  one  of  you 
boys ;  is  there  no  brook  or  stream  near  by  ?  " 

"  Nothing  nearer  than  the  river  that  I  knows  of, 
your  Honor,"  said  the  man,  "  'less  there's  some  in 
yon  ditch  — " 

"  You  need  seek  no  ditch-water  for  me,"  said 
Prue,  sitting  up  and  struggling  with  the  wraps  in 
which  her  head  was  entangled.  "  Since  you  are 
there,  Sir  Geoffrey,  you  may  as  well  lend  me  some 
assistance." 


334       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"  Good  Gad !  Lady  Prue ! "  cried  the  baronet, 
with  a  vast  show  of  astonishment.  "  By  what 
happy  chance  am  I  fortunate  enough  to  be  of  use 
to  you?  Methought  you  were  safe  in  Tunbridge 
hours  ago." 

"  No  doubt  that  is  why  you  have  been  following 
my  carriage  ever  since  I  left  Seven  Oaks,"  she  re- 
torted. "  'Tis  strange  you  should  also  have  taken 
a  short  cut  which  seems  to  lead  to  nowhere  in  par- 
ticular ! " 

"  It  has  led  you  into  an  awkward  predicament, 
my  dearest  Prudence,"  he  replied  gravely.  "  I  shud- 
der to  think  of  the  straits  to  which  you  would  have 
been  reduced,  had  I  not  been  —  quite  providentially 
—  passing  at  the  critical  moment." 

"  Well,  as  Providence  has  been  kind  enough  to 
send  me  a  knight-errant,  perhaps  he  will  tell  me 
where  I  am  and  how  far  it  is  to  the  next  post- 
house,"  said  Prue,  not  very  graciously,  for  Sir 
Geoffrey's  presence  was  too  opportune  to  appear 
quite  unpremeditated. 

"The  next  post-house?"  he  reflected.  "Post- 
boy, how  far  is  the  next  post-house  ?  " 

"  Four  mile  or  thereabout,  your  Honor,"  the 
man  returned,  beginning  to  unstrap  the  valises. 

"  Is  there  any  inn  or  cottage  near,  where  I  can 
wait  while  you  take  horse  to  the  post-house  and 
fetch  me  another  chaise  ? "  inquired  Prue.  The 
man  scratched  his  head  doubtfully  and  looked  at 
Sir  Geoffrey  as  if  for  instructions. 

"  Well,   fellow,  can  not  you  answer  the  lady  ? 


A  DIFFERENT  HIGHWAYMAN      335 

You  surely  know  what  houses  of  entertainment 
there  are  on  the  road  to  Tunbridge,"  said  Sir  Geof- 
frey. 

"  There's  a  pike  a  mile  or  so  ahead,"  said  the 
man,  "  but  'tis  no  place  for  a  lady  to  sit  down  in  — 
a  bit  of  a  wooden  cabin,  and  the  pike-keeper's  a 
rough  blade." 

Prue's  dismay  was  unutterable.  A  mile  to  walk 
along  a  rugged  country  road  in  the  dusk,  and  an 
indefinite  period  of  waiting  in  the  hut  of  a  turn- 
pike-keeper !  She  was  silent  for  sheer  lack  of  words 
to  do  justice  to  the  situation. 

"  There  is  an  alternative  that  will  relieve  you  of 
all  embarrassment,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  after  a  suffi- 
ciently long  pause  to  allow  her  to  realize  the  horror 
of  her  dilemma.  "  My  coach  is  not  many  yards 
away,  and  if  you  will  not  honor  me  by  accepting 
my  escort  to  Tunbridge,  permit  me,  at  least,  to 
carry  you  to  the  nearest  post-house,  where  no  doubt 
you  can  obtain  a  conveyance  for  the  rest  of  the 
journey." 

Prue  looked  down  at  her  little  feet  in  their 
dainty,  high-heeled  slippers,  and  wondered  how  far 
they  would  support  her  along  that  rough,  uneven 
road.  She  rose  from  the  grassy  bank  where  Sir 
Geoffrey  had  deposited  her  and  a  little  cry  escaped 
her.  Though  uninjured  in  the  breakdown,  she  was 
shaken  and  bruised,  and  would  have  fallen  had  not 
Sir  Geoffrey  caught  her  in  his  arms,  from  which 
she  extricated  herself  with  great  promptness. 
Drawing  back  a  pace  or  two,  she  raised  her  lovely 


336       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

eyes  searching!/  to  his,  and  though,  in  their  clear 
depths  he  could  read  a  hundred  swift  suspicions, 
he  met  their  scrutiny  without  flinching. 

"  Sir  Geoffrey,"  she  said,  after  a  brief  pause, 
"  I  thank  you  for  your  offer,  and  accept  your  es- 
cort as  far  as  the  post-house,  on  condition  that  if 
we  should  pass  any  decent  cottage,  you  will  permit 
me  to  seek  its  shelter  until  a  chaise  can  be  sent  to 
me." 

"  Your  lack  of  confidence  wounds  and  astonishes 
me,  Lady  Prudence,"  he  replied,  with  bitterness. 
"  After  my  long  devotion  and  the  vows  that  have 
been  exchanged  between  us,  it  is  strange  that  you 
should  impose  restrictions  upon  me  that  would 
sound  injurious  to  a  stranger.  But  I  submit  —  as 
I  have  always  done — >to  your  lightest  caprice." 

"  This  is  no  caprice,"  she  returned,  with  cold  re- 
serve ;  "  my  circumstances  are  peculiar  and  I  am 
bound  to  beware  of  appearances." 

He  bowed  low  and  taking  her  hand  without 
further  resistance,  led  her  to  his  chariot,  upon  which 
the  men  were  already  loading  her  valises.  Her 
jewel-box  and  the  other  contents  of  the  chaise 
having  been  safely  bestowed,  Sir  Geoffrey  took  his 
seat  beside  her,  his  valet  returned  to  the  rumble 
and  they  drove  off,  leaving  the  postboys  to  patch 
up  the  damaged  vehicle  and  convey  it,  as  best  they 
might,  to  the  nearest  inn. 

Glancing  back  at  them,  Prue  observed  with  sat- 
isfaction that  another  carriage  had  come  into 
view,  following  the  same  road.  Greatly  relieved 
at  this  proof  that  the  "  short-cut "  was  not,  as  she 


A  DIFFERENT  HIGHWAYMAN      337 

had  feared,  an  unfrequented  by-road,  she  relaxed 
her  austerity,  and  was  soon  chattering  with  her 
natural  vivacity.  Sir  Geoffrey  was  not  slow  to 
respond  to  her  friendly  mood,  which  he  mistook 
for  a  sign  that  her  fears  were  allayed  and  that  her 
inveterate  coquetry,  momentarily  under  severe  re- 
straint, was  ready  for  fresh  development.  His 
tones  soon  became  tender,  and  his  eyes  glowed  with 
a  passion  that  he  no  longer  attempted  to  moderate. 
He  seized  her  hands,  and,  regardless  of  her  strug- 
gles, pressed  them  over  and  over  again  to  his  lips. 
Then  growing  bolder  still,  he  attempted  to  draw  her 
closer  and  clasp  her  in  his  arms. 

"  Let  me  go,  Sir  Geoffrey,  you  are  taking  a  das- 
tardly advantage  of  me!"  she  cried,  repulsing  him 
with  all  her  strength.  "  Release  me !  I  insist  upon 
your  setting  me  down  instantly !  If  I  can  not  walk, 
I  can  wait  on  the  roadside  for  some  honest  passer- 
by-" 

"  Never,  dearest  angel ;  never  shall  you  leave  my 
arms  until  you  promise  to  put  an  end  to  my  tor- 
tures. I  have  endured  more  from  you  than  mortal 
man  can  be  expected  to  brook  with  patience !  You 
are  in  my  power,  sweetest  Prue!  A  lucky  chance 
has  given  you  to  my  arms,  and  if  I  were  to  let 
you  go  now,  I  should  deserve  to  lose  you  for  ever." 

"  You  lost  me,"  cried  Prue,  "  the  day  you  gave 
me  to  Robin  Freemantle.  Now  I  belong  to  him; 
before  God  and  man  I  am  his  wife." 

"  Tush !  a  felon  —  a  gallows-bird !  "  cried  Sir 
Geoffrey  angrily.  "Let  me  hear  no  more  of  that 
farce.  I  believe  the  man  is  dead;  but  if  not  so 


338       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

in  fact,  he  is  dead  to  the  law,  and  you  are  free  — 
free,  dearest,  to.  make  me  happy  and  to  be  as  happy 
yourself  as  the  truest,  fondest  lover  woman  ever 
had  can  make  you  when  he  is  your  devoted  hus- 
band. Come,  my  dear  Prue,  throw  aside  these  coy 
humors  and  be  your  own  sweet  self  once  more  — 
the  adorable  creature  — " 

"  Oh !  spare  me  these  raptures ! "  protested  Prue. 
"  Even  one's  own  praises  become  wearisome  by 
repetition.  In  very  truth  I  am  too  tired  to  en- 
joy your  conversation  this  evening,  Sir  Geoffrey. 
To-morrow,  if  you  are  in  Tunbridge,  and  I  am 
rested  after  this  wearisome  journey,  we  will  discuss 
this  matter  and  settle  it  finally.  For  the  present, 
I  beg  of  you  not  to  disturb  me  until  we  reach  the 
post-house ;  my  head  is  dizzy  and  I  ache  from  head 
to  foot,  and  I  fain  would  rest  me." 

"  I  grieve  to  discompose  you,  dearest,  but  to- 
morrow will  be  too  late  to  discuss  our  marriage  — 
though  not,  I  hope,  the  happiness  it  will  have 
brought  us.  I  have  a  special  license  in  my  pocket 
and  there  is  no  reason  that  I  know  of,  why  it  should 
not  be  used  to-night." 

Prue  sat  up  so  suddenly  that  Sir  Geoffrey  thought 
she  was  going  to  jump  out  of  the  carriage  and  laid 
a  detaining  hand  upon  her  arm.  She  attempted, 
but  unsuccessfully,  to  release  herself. 

"  As  to  whether  we  go  to  Tunbridge  to-morrow 
—  that  will  depend  on  you,"  he  went  on.  "  At 
present  we  are  going,  as  fast  as  horses  can  take  us, 
in  the  opposite  direction.  We  shall  arrive,  pres- 
ently, at  a  little  church,  where  we  can  be  quietly 


A  DIFFERENT  HIGHWAYMAN      339 

and  quickly  married,  and  can  then,  if  you  wish, 
resume  our  journey;  or,  if  you  are  of  my  way  of 
thinking,  we  can  break  it  for  a  day  or  two,  at  a 
charming  rustic  retreat  which  has  been  placed  at 
my  disposal  for  the  honeymoon.  What  say  you, 
dearest  ?  " 

"  I  say  that  you  must  be  mad  to  talk  to  me  in 
this  way,"  said  Prue  haughtily.  "  I  insist  that 
you  take  me  at  once  to  a  post-house  where  I  can 
get  a  chaise  and  proceed  to  Tunbridge.  We  can 
not  be  so  very  far  out  of  the  way." 

"You  are  mistaken,  love,"  he  replied  tranquilly. 
"  At  Seven  Oaks  your  postboy,  instructed  by  me, 
turned  off  the  Tunbridge  Road  in  the  direction  of 
the  secluded  country  house  which  our  good  friend 
Aarons  offered  me  the  use  of,  for  as  long  as  you 
wish  to  occupy  it.  That  is  where  we  are  going 
now ;  it  depends  on  you  how  long  we  remain  there." 

"  In  that  case,"  she  retorted  promptly,  "  we  will 
not  remain  an  hour  —  a  minute  —  in  fact,  we  will 
not  go  there  at  all.  I  protest  that  rather  than  go 
another  yard  with  you,  I  would  walk  back,  bare- 
foot, to  Seven  Oaks,  or  even  to  Tunbridge." 

"  The  choice  is  not  yours,  Prudence,"  said  Sir 
Geoffrey,  his  smooth  voice  in  strong  contrast  to 
the  black  frown  that  shadowed  his  face  at  her 
imperious  tone  and  the  indignant  energy  with  which 
she  repulsed  his  advances.  "  This  time  I  will  not 
be  balked;  I  am  resolved  to  give  you  no  further 
opportunity  of  fooling  me." 

Prue  laughed  contemptuously.  "  Do  you  think 
you  can  marry  me  by  force  ?  "  she  cried.  "  What 


340       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

priest  would  marry  us  when  I  tell  him  the 
truth?" 

"  By  the  time  you  have  been  my  guest  for  two 
or  three  days  you  will,  no  doubt,  prefer  returning 
to  court  as  Lady  Beaudesert,  the  heroine  of  a  ro- 
mantic marriage,  to  braving  the  scandal  of  a  mys- 
terious elopement  as  the  frisky  Widow  Brooke." 

"  Villain !  "  she  ejaculated.  "  I  would  brave  any 
scandal  rather  than  marry  a  wretch  capable  of  such 
treachery ! " 

"  We  shall  see,"  returned  her  captor,  at  the  same 
time  thrusting  his  head  out  of  the  window  and  call- 
ing to  the  postilion,  "  Stop,  fool,  is  not  this  the 
ferry?  See  the  inn  yonder  and  the  boats."  The 
coach  came  to  a  standstill  and  Sir  Geoffrey's  man 
jumped  down  from  the  rumble.  "  Go  rouse  the 
landlord  and  call  up  the  ferryman,"  said  his  mas- 
ter; "bid  him  hasten  if  he  would  earn  a  guinea 
for  his  services." 

The  moment  the  carriage  stopped  Prue  began 
to  scream,  "  Help  —  oh !  help  —  is  there  no  one 
here  to  help  a  poor  woman  in  sore  distress  ?  " 

"  No  one,  dearest,"  replied  Sir  Geoffrey,  open- 
ing the  door  and  alighting  in  the  dusty  highway, 
"  except  your  devoted  lover  and  slave.  Will  it 
please  you  to  descend?  We  have  but  little  farther 
to  go,  and  that  by  water." 

Prue  crouched  back  in  the  farthest  corner  of  the 
coach.  "  I'll  not  leave  this  carriage  until  my  cries 
bring  help.  Help  —  oh !  help !  " 

"  Call  your  loudest,  pretty  one ;  'twill  give  me  a 
good  excuse  for  smothering  your  cries  with  kisses. 


A  DIFFERENT  HIGHWAYMAN      341 

An'  if  you  force  me  to  carry  you,  so  much  the 
better  for  me ;  I  shall  enjoy  the  bliss  of  holding  you 
in  my  arms  all  the  sooner/' 

"  You  think  you  can  insult  me  because  I  am  a 
woman  and  unarmed,"  she  cried,  too  indignant  to 
be  alarmed,  "  but  I  have  ten  daggers  at  my  finger- 
tips to  defend  my  honor." 

"  Your  honor,  dearest  Prue,  is  in  no  jeopardy 
from  me.  I  seek,  on  the  contrary,  to  shield  you 
from  the  disgrace  of  being  pointed  at  as  a  felon's 
widow  by  making  you  the  wife  of  an  honorable 
gentleman." 

"  How  dare  you  call  my  husband  a  felon?  "  she 
cried,  "and  his  wife  a  widow?  He  is  not  dead, 
and  if  he  were,  I  would  not  marry  you." 

"  I  swear  to  you  that  Robin  Freemantle  is  dead," 
Sir  Geoffrey  asseverated.  A  voice  from  the 
shadow  of  the  trees  responded  in  sonorous  and 
tragic  tones,  "  You  lie !  " 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE  DEAREST   TREASURE 

SOMEWHERE  about  the  time  that  Prue  was 
leaving  Seven  Oaks,  Robin  Freemantle,  accom- 
panied by  two  friends  and  followed  by  the  faithful 
Steve,  rode  out  of  the  stately  gates  of  a  country 
mansion  a  few  miles  beyond  St.  Mary's  Cray. 

At  a  short  distance  they  left  the  highroad  and 
plunged  into  a  deep  and  narrow  lane,  showing  few 
signs  of  use  and  leading  into  others  as  neglected 
and  man- forsaken.  When  the  lanes  were  wide 
enough  the  three  rode  abreast,  with  heads  bent  to- 
gether in  earnest  conference.  Papers  were  handed 
to  Robin  which  he  concealed  about  his  person,  and 
last  instructions  reiterated,  to  which  he  listened  at- 
tentively, but  without  enthusiasm. 

"  You  think  I  am  sure  of  finding  a  boat  at  Hail- 
ing, Percival  ?  "  he  inquired,  when  the  others  be- 
came silent. 

"  We  shall  avoid  Hailing  and  seek  the  ferry  a 
mile  or  so  above,"  replied  the  younger  of  his  com- 
panions. "  The  ferry  is  little  used ;  indeed  I  do  not 
know  how  there  comes  to  be  one  at  all,  for  the  road 
is  unfrequented  and  I  know  of  no  habitation  but 
the  little  inn  where,  however,  there  are  always  boats 
for  hire  —  built  possibly  by  the  ferryman  himself. 
The  tide  serves  about  nine  o'clock  and  with  a 

342 


THE  DEAREST  TREASURE    343 

favorable  wind  we  should  be  below  Rochester  by 
moonrise.  No  one  will  be  looking  for  you  on  the 
Medway,  Captain,  and  before  morning  you  will  be 
safely  past  Sheerness  and,  I  hope,  on  board  the 
Petite  Vierge,  while  the  spies  of  the  government 
are  keeping  strict  watch  for  you  between  London 
Bridge  and  Gravesend." 

"  I  would  give  ten  years  of  my  life,"  said  Robin 
moodily,  "  for  one  more  day  in  England." 

"  Your  life  is  not  your  own  to  give,  Captain  de 
Cliffe,"  said  the  third  man,  who,  even  in  this  soli- 
tude, kept  his  wide-brimmed  beaver  slouched  so  as. 
completely  to  conceal  his  face.  "  It  belongs  to 
King  James,  and  should  you  be  arrested  with  these 
documents  upon  you,  hundreds  of  lives,  besides 
your  own,  may  pay  for  the  mischance." 

"  I  do  not  need  to  be  reminded  of  my  duty,  even 
by  your  grace,"  said  Robin  proudly. 

"  I  know  it  well,"  returned  the  other  pacifically, 
"  and  when  you  return  with  the  king,  in  triumph 
—  may  it  be  soon  —  His  Majesty  will  know  how 
to  reward  you." 

"Aye,  that  he  will,"  muttered  Steve,  who  was 
close  enough  to  catch  some  of  the  conversation,  in 
which  he  was  greatly  interested.  "  '  Virtue  is  its 
own  reward  '  is  the  motto  of  the  Stuarts !  " 

"  The  highest  reward  King  James  can  offer  is  to 
send  me  back  as  fast  as  horse  and  ship  can  carry 
me,"  cried  Robin.  "  Even  now  — " 

"  Even  now,  Captain,"  Steve  broke  in,  "  you 
are  lucky  in  getting  away  alive.  Don't  forget  there 
is  a  price  upon  your  head  and  the  law's  protection 


344 

—  save  the  mark !  —  will  be  withdrawn  in  a  few 
hours.  After  that  your  life  is  forfeit  wherever  the 
flag  of  England  flies." 

"My  life!  When  has  it  not  been  forfeit?"  re- 
turned Robin  carelessly.  "  But  your  grace  can  be 
at  ease;  I  have  given  my  word  to  carry  these  let- 
ters safely  to  Paris  and  I  will  do  so,  God  sparing 
me." 

"  Enough !  I  should  never  have  thought  of 
doubting  you,  had  not  mine  own  eyes  seen  you  at 
the  masquerade  with  a  certain  fair  sorceress  whose 
spells  are  far  more  dangerous  than  sword  or  bullet. 
Right  glad  am  I  that  Fate  drives  you  from  her  be- 
fore we  lose  one  of  our  most  valued  captains  in 
the  same  snare  that  has  entangled  the  feet  of  all 
heroes,  ancient  and  modern.  Let  us  lose  no  time, 
for  the  love  of  Heaven;  your  only  safety  lies  in 
swift  flight ! " 

And  with  malicious  laughter,  in  which  the  other 
man  heartily  joined,  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse  and 
urged  the  cavalcade  to  such  speed  as  the  heavy 
ground  would  permit. 

In  spite  of  their  haste,  the  sun  was  sinking  be- 
hind the  mists  that  rose  from  the  river,  before  they 
saw  its  shimmer  through  the  trees.  The  road  upon 
which  they  emerged  from  the  bridle-path  took  a 
sharp  turn  at  this  spot  and  passed  close  to  a  little 
inn  —  a  mere  peasant's  cottage,  for  all  the  an- 
nouncement on  the  creaking  signboard  of  enter- 
tainment for  man  and  beast,  and  further  informa- 
tion as  to  the  hire  and  sale  of  boats  at  the  adjacent 
ferry. 


THE  DEAREST  TREASURE    345 

"  Go  forward,  Steve,  and  see  what  folks  are 
about,  and  if  there  be  a  seaworthy  boat  to  be  had, 
while  we  keep  within  this  thicket  out  of  sight  of 
passers-by,"  said  the  duke,  backing  his  horse  into 
the  wood,  while  Steve  and  Percival  dismounted  to 
reconnoiter  the  premises. 

Steve  quickly  returned  alone.  "The  ferry  is 
close  at  hand,"  he  said,  "  but  I  can  find  neither 
ferryman  nor  landlord.  However,  there  are  boats 
a-plenty  at  the  landing,  and  if  we  press  one  for  the 
king's  service,  'tis  no  more  than  a  loyal  subject 
should  rejoice  to  contribute  to  the  cause!  The 
wind  is  fair,  the  tide  is  on  the  turn,  I  can  hoist  a 
sail  and  handle  an  oar,  and  'twill  be  strange  if  we 
leave  not  Sheerness  in  our  wake  at  sunrise." 

"  You  are  sure  there  is  no  one  spying  about  ?  " 
the  duke  inquired  nervously.  "  How  if  they  are 
merely  hiding?  Stay  you  here,  Captain  —  I  will 
examine  the  inn  for  myself  —  it  will  not  do  for 
you  to  fall  into  an  ambush.  And  it  would  be  well 
for  Steve  to  stand  sentinel  at  the  bend  of  the  road ; 
he  can  warn  us  in  time  of  any  approaching  way- 
farer, for  if  I  mistake  not,  the  road  over  the  waste 
lands  can  be  plainly  seen  for  several  miles." 

Left  alone,  Robin  dropped  the  mask  of  careless 
gaiety  under  which  he  had  hidden  his  dejection 
from  his  companions.  About  to  leave  the  land  that 
contained  Prue,  on  a  mission  whose  risks  he  had 
often  braved  without  a  thought  except  of  audacious 
delight  in  danger  and  reckless  defiance  of  the  law 
from  which  he  was  an  outcast,  he  was  now  beset 
by  a  thousand  apprehensions  for  which  he  could 


346       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

have  given  no  reason,  but  which  chilled  his  loyal 
ardor  and  hung  like  an  incubus  upon  his  soul. 
How  could  he  wish  for  his  once-beloved  Paris 
while  Prue  was  in  England?  What  cared  he  for 
the  safe  asylum  of  the  French  court  while  Prue 
in  the  English  court  was  wooed  by  a  score  of 
suitors  and  pressed  by  dangers  and  temptations 
from  which  he  was  powerless  to  protect  her  ?  The 
setting  sun  seemed  like  an  emblem  of  his  own  fate 
—  except  that  it  would  surely  rise  again  on  the 
morrow,  while  he  might  sink  for  ever  into  forget- 
fulness.  "  Oh!  my  heart's  joy,  my  only  love,  shall 
we  never  meet  again?"  he  murmured.  "Oh!  for 
one  more  look  into  those  sweet  eyes;  one  last  kiss 
from  those  beloved  lips!  Must  I  go  without  a 
farewell  word ;  without  sure  hope  that  she  will  ever 
bestow  another  thought  on  me?  Before  God  she 
is  my  wife  —  yet  the  outlaw  has  no  God  —  no 
country  —  no  wife  —  and  how  dare  I  hope  that  she 
who  took  me  for  an  hour's  frolic,  would  not  some 
day  gladly  be  rid  of  me  for  ever?" 

Robin's  reflections,  painful  and  absorbing  as  they 
were,  did  not  prevent  his  keeping  a  close  watch  on 
Steve,  who  now  turned,  and,  with  many  signs  of 
caution,  retraced  his  steps.  At  the  same  time  the 
distant  sound  of  wheels  became  audible. 

"  Conceal  yourself,  Captain,  there  are  travelers 
coming  this  way ;  we  must  withdraw  until  they  have 
passed,"  said  Steve,  pushing  his  way  through  the 
bushes  and  preparing  to  lead  his  horse  farther  into 
the  wood. 

"  We  are  four,"  said  Robin.     "  It  would  ill  be- 


THE  DEAREST  TREASURE    347 

come  us  to  turn  tail  without  knowing  what  we  fly 
from." 

"  Four !  Would  you  attempt  to  draw  his  grace 
into  a  broil?  " 

"  A  broil !  Pshaw !  "  cried  Robin  impatiently. 
"  Some  pursy  citizen  in  a  post-chaise,  belike,  or 
passengers  for  the  ferry." 

"  There's  another  carriage  following  the  one  you 
hear,"  said  Steve.  "  Shall  I  warn  the  duke  and 
Mr.  Percival?" 

"  No,  no !  let  us  play  highwaymen  once  more  and 
frighten  them  away,"  laughed  Robin,  quickly  ad- 
justing a  black  mask  and  handing  one  to  Steve. 
As  he  did  so  a  hand  was  laid  somewhat  roughly  on 
his  arm  and  the  duke,  in  low  but  emphatic  tones, 
interrupted  him: 

"  A  truce  to  this  headstrong  folly ;  your  rashness 
will  ruin  everything." 

"  I'm  in  the  right  temper  for  a  tussle,"  returned 
Robin  resignedly.  "  Yet  if  these  travelers  do  not 
molest  us  they  may  pass  on  their  way  unchallenged 
for  me,"  and,  reluctantly,  he  withdrew  a  few  paces 
farther  into  the  thicket,  just  as  a  coach  and  four 
rounded  the  bend  in  the  road  and  drew  up  not  many 
paces  away. 

A  man  jumped  out  of  the  rumble,  and  hurrying 
to  the  inn-door,  battered  and  kicked  at  it,  loudly 
shouting,  "  Ferry  —  ho,  Ferry  —  where  is  the  Fer- 
ryman? Ho,  Landlord,  open  your  door  quickly 
and  do  not  waste  our  time." 

An  upper  window  opened  cautiously,  just  wide 
enough  to  show  a  night-capped  head  within. 


THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

"Who  calls  for  the  ferry  at  this  hour?"  de- 
manded a  quavering  voice. 

"  Why,  'tis  early  yet,"  replied  the  man;  "  we  are 
travelers  who  would  cross  in  hot  haste." 

"  Your  haste  will  have  time  to  cool  —  the  ferry- 
man beds  t'other  side  the  river  and  comes  not  over 
unless  he  brings  a  fare,"  said  the  landlord. 

"Is  there  no  way  of  calling  him?  He  will  be 
well  paid  for  his  trouble;  and  you,  too,  Goodman, 
may  find  it  worth  while  to  come  down  and  serve 
my  noble  master,"  cried  the  man. 

"  There's  a  horn  chained  to  yon  post ;  blow  it, 
if  you  will,  an'  if  he  hears  you,  mayhap  he'll  bring 
his  boat  across.  If  you  want  food  and  drink, 
you'll  find  none  fit  for  the  quality  nearer  than  Hail- 
ing. My  wife  is  sick  a-bed  and  I'm  lame  with  the 
rheumatics,  but  I'll  come  down  and  open  if  you'll 
have  patience."  And  the  head  was  withdrawn  and 
the  casement  shut. 

In  the  meantime  the  carriage  door  was  opened 
and  a  man  descended.  His  figure,  which  a  ray  of 
the  setting  sun  brought  into  strong  relief,  was  im- 
mediately recognized  by  Robin,  who  muttered,  "  Sir 
Geoffrey  Beaudesert!  What  brings  him  across  my 
path  again  ?  "  and  pushing  forward  a  little,  caught 
the  sound  of  his  own  name. 

"  I  swear  to  you  that  Robin  Freemantle  is  dead !  " 

"  You  lie !  "  shouted  Robin. 

Sir  Geoffrey  started  and  looked  round.  "  What 
was  that  ?  "  he  exclaimed  uneasily. 

Prue  instantly  renewed  her  cries,  "  Help !  help ! 
If  ye  be  true  men,  come  to  my  rescue!  " 


THE  DEAREST  TREASURE    349 

Two  masked  and  cloaked  horsemen  promptly 
advanced,  leveling  their  pistols  at  Sir  Geoffrey's 
head. 

"  Stand  and  deliver !  "  commanded  the  taller  of 
them,  in  deep,  vibrant  tones. 

At  the  sound  of  that  beloved  voice,  Prue,  with 
a  cry  of  joy,  sprang  out  of  the  carriage,  and  rush- 
ing to  Robin,  who  was  already  afoot,  threw  herself 
into  his  arms. 

"  Oh !  joy  —  oh !  Robin,  dear,  dear  Robin, 
Heaven  has  sent  you  to  deliver  me  from  this  vil- 
lain!" 

At  the  sight  of  their  meeting  and  the  maddening 
certainty  of  his  own  utter  discomfiture,  Sir  Geoffrey 
could  not  contain  his  fury,  but  drawing  his  sword, 
would  have  hurled  himself  upon  Robin  had  not 
Prue  stood  between  them  with  outstretched  arms. 

"Stand  aside,  woman!"  he  vociferated,  beside 
himself  with  rage.  "  Must  I  kill  you  to  get  at 
him?  Coward!  are  you  going  to  shelter  yourself 
behind  a  woman?  " 

"  Stand  aside,  Prue,"  said  Robin,  in  a  tone  she 
dared  not  disobey,  and  drawing  his  sword  he  placed 
himself  on  the  defensive. 

Sir  Geoffrey  was  an  adroit  swordsman  and  a 
practised  duellist,  but  he  soon  found  he  had  no  mean 
antagonist  in  Robin.  It  was  a  match  between  the 
clever  master  of  fence  and  the  soldier  accustomed 
to  fight  with  his  life  in  his  hand,  regardless  of 
carte  and  tierce.  At  pose  and  trick  Sir  Geoffrey 
was  the  superior,  but  he  was  under  the  disadvan- 
tage of  a  tempestuous  fury  that  prevented  his  mak- 


350       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

ing  the  best  use  of  the  dexterity  that  had  brought 
him  out  victor  from  numerous  encounters,  while 
Robin's  coolness  more  than  compensated  for  lack 
of  finesse,  and  his  skill  as  a  swordsman  soon  proved 
itself.  Sir  Geoffrey,  in  spite  of  his  passionate  on- 
slaught, was  gradually  beaten  off  the  roadside  and 
driven  step  by  step  to  the  door  of  the  inn,  where 
Robin,  calm  as  though  they  had  been  merely  fenc- 
ing for  amusement,  goaded  him  into  rashness 
with  an  exaggerated  display  of  caution,  and  taking 
quick  advantage  of  a  wild  lunge,  disarmed  him  and 
sent  his  sword  flying  a  dozen  paces  away. 

At  the  clash  of  weapons  and  sound  of  warfare, 
the  inn-door  opened  a  few  inches  and  a  bald  old 
head  peered  cautiously  out. 

"  Gentlemen,  gentlemen ! "  piped  a  trembling 
voice,  "  mine  is  a  respectable  house ;  pray  you  do 
not  get  me  into  trouble.  I  implore  you,  if  there 
is  murder  to  be  done,  for  Heaven's  sake  go  a  little 
farther  up  the  road;  there  is  a  quiet  spot,  not  five 
minutes'  walk  away,  where  no  one  will  disturb  you 
while  you  kill  each  other." 

"  It  is  all  over,  good  mine  host ;  'twas  but  a 
friendly  bout ;  no  one  is  the  worse  for  it  by  so  much 
as  a  cut  finger,"  laughed  Robin.  "  Steve,  pick  up 
Sir  Geoffrey's  sword  and  restore  it  to  him.  Escort 
him  into  the  inn  and  treat  him  courteously  until  I 
call  for  you."  As  they  disappeared,  he  turned  to 
Prue,  who  had  watched  the  duel  with  mingled  fear 
and  joy,  and  now  hurried  to  his  outstretched  arms. 

"Oh!  Robin;  why  didn't  you  kill  him?"  she 
cried. 


THE  DEAREST  TREASURE    351 

"  Why,  'twas  a  duel,  dearest  Prue,  not  an  assas- 
sination — "  he  began. 

"  He  would  have  killed  you  if  he  could,  I'll  be 
sworn,"  she  protested.  "  I  saw  murder  in  his  eye 
when  he  rushed  upon  us,  and  surely  you  would 
avenge  the  treachery  that  brought  me  to  this  lonely 
place  with  a  man  I  detest,  who  desired  to  force  or 
shame  me  into  marrying  him?  " 

"  I  am  almost  grateful  to  him,"  murmured 
Robin,  with  his  lips  to  hers,  "  that  he  brought  you 
here  and  procured  me  the  inestimable  happiness  of 
seeing  you  once  more  and  bidding  you  farewell." 

"  Is  it  indeed  happiness  for  you  to  bid  me  fare- 
well ?  "  pouted  Prue  reproachfully. 

"  Almost  —  compared  to  the  unutterable  anguish 
of  leaving  you,  perhaps  for  ever,  without." 

Prue  drew  herself  away  just  far  enough  to  look 
into  his  eyes  with  bewitching  tenderness.  "  Does 
it  grieve  you  so  much  to  leave  me,  Robin?"  she 
said  softly. 

"  Can  you  ask,  Heart  of  my  heart?"  he  replied. 
"  You  little  know  how  sorely  I  am  torn  in  twain 
by  the  duty  that  separates  me  from  you." 

"  Then  why  should  we  separate  ?  "  she  cajoled, 
nestling  against  him. 

"  Oh !  tempt  me  not,  Beloved ! "  he  implored, 
feeling  himself  melting  like  wax  under  her  touch. 
"  Honor  and  loyalty  call  me  to  France  — " 

"  Then  take  me  with  you!  "  she  cried,  in  ringing 
tones. 

A  hand  was  laid  on  Robin's  shoulder  with  no 
gentle  emphasis.  "  What  folly  is  this  ?  "  demanded 


352       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

a  harsh  voice.  "  De  Cliffe,  I  have  overheard  the 
wiles  of  this  enchantress,  and  although  I  believe 
your  loyalty  is  beyond  reproach,  I  can  not  allow  her 
to  test  your  powers  of  resistance  too  far.  Can  you 
really  believe  that  she  wishes  to  accompany  you? 
Bah !  'tis  but  another  coil  to  bind  you  more  securely 
and  make  your  escape  more  difficult.  But  it  shall 
not  avail,  I  swear  on  the  bones  of  St.  Anthony! 
Viscountess  Brooke,  do  you  wish  to  have  this  man's 
death  on  your  conscience?  If  so,  use  your  arts 
on  him  and  you  will  soon  be  gratified;  for  I  my- 
self will  run  my  sword  through  his  heart,  rather 
than  see  him  a  traitor  to  his  king." 

"  Your  grace  misjudges  me,"  said  Prue  proudly. 
"  I  come,  as  you  should  know,  of  right  loyal  stock, 
and  nothing  is  further  from  my  wishes  than  to  hinder 
his  departure.  I  but  claim  the  right  to  go  wherever 
he  goes." 

"  The  right!  What  right?  "  sneered  the  duke. 
"  The  right,  in  the  sight  of  God  and  man,  of  a 
wife  to  follow  her  husband,"  said  Prue  unflinchingly. 
As  she  stood  there  so  beautiful  and  undaunted, 
the  love-light  in  her  glorious  eyes  seemed  to  irradi- 
ate her  whole  face  with  indescribable  tenderness 
and  dignity.  Even  the  angry  duke  dropped  his 
eyes,  abashed,  and  his  tone  was  sensibly  lowered 
when  he  exclaimed,  "Wife?  Husband?  De 
Cliffe,  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  midsummer  mad- 
ness ?  " 

"  Oh !  Prue,"  cried  Robin,  "  you  know  not  what 
you  say;  how  could  you  dream  of  sharing  the  for- 
tunes of  an  exile  —  an  outlaw  ?  " 


THE  DEAREST  TREASURE    353 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  his,  brimming  with  tears. 
"  Because  I  love  you,  Robin,"  she  sighed  pathetic- 
ally but  bravely,  "  and  life  without  you  is  worthless 
to  me."  Then,  with  a  sudden  change  to  petulance, 
"  Oh !  why  do  you  leave  me  to  do  all  the  love- 
making?  Is  it  not  shame  enough  that  I  was  a 
petitioner  for  your  hand,  but  that  now  I  must  come 
as  a  beggar  for  your  heart  ?  Sure,  I  did  think  you 
loved  me  —  a  little,"  and  she  buried  her  face  in  her 
hands. 

"  Sweetheart,  it  is  because  I  love  you  so  dearly 
that  I  am  loath  to  let  you  throw  away  your  beauty 
and  sweetness  on  a  poor  soldier  of  fortune,"  said 
Robin,  scarcely  less  agitated  than  she. 

"  Who  is  apparently  ready  to  ruin  himself  for 
the  idle  caprice  of  a  frivolous  coquette !  "  interposed 
the  duke,  with  asperity. 

The  carriage  which  had  followed  Sir  Geoffrey's 
had  arrived  while  the  duel  was  in  progress,  and 
drawn  up  unnoticed  at  the  bend  of  the  road.  Its 
sole  occupant  alighted,  and  lingering  in  the  shadow 
of  the  trees,  became  an  interested  spectator,  himself 
unobserved. 

"  De  Cliffe,"  continued  the  duke,  "  time  presses 
and  you  must  not  linger.  Think  only  of  your  duty 
and  be  firm." 

There  was  a  brief  silence,  which  Prue  broke, 
addressing  her  husband,  "  I  will  not  force  myself 
upon  you,  Robin.  Tell  me  what  you  wish  and  I 
will  obey,  even  if  it  breaks  my  heart.  But  if  you 
do  not  take  me  away,  what  will  you  do  with  me? 
YOU  can  not  escort  me  yourself  —  you  can  hardly 


354       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

return  me  on  Sir  Geoffrey's  hands !  —  Am  I  to  re- 
turn to  Tunbridge  on  foot  and  alone?  " 

"  I  will  charge  myself  with  your  ladyship's  safe 
conduct,"  interposed  the  duke  impatiently. 

"A  thousand  thanks,"  returned  Prue,  sweep- 
ing a  profound  curtsey.  "  Your  grace's  courage 
has  not  been  overrated,  yet  methinks,  if  you  reflect 
upon  what  might  happen  when  some  one  told  your 
charming  duchess  that  you  rode  into  Tunbridge  at 
break  of  day  with  the  Widow  Brooke  on  the  pillion, 
you  will  be  grateful  for  my  rejection  of  your  offer." 
She  turned  to  Robin  with  a  submissive  air  that 
made  at  least  one  onlooker  smile,  "  I  will  plead  no 
more  with  you,  Robin,  but  if  I  must  leave  you, 
swear  to  return  to  me  and  I  will  be  true  to  you  if 
I  have  to  wait  fifty  years." 

She  threw  her  arms  round  his  neck  and  drawing 
his  face  down  to  her,  kissed  him  with  passionate 
abandon,  then  bursting  into  tears,  sobbed  out,  "  If 
you  can  leave  me  now,  Robin,  farewell !  " 

There  is  a  limit  to  the  powers  of  endurance  of 
the  most  resolute,  and  Robin  could  stand  no  more. 
He  clasped  her  in  his  arms  and  soothed  her  with 
the  tenderest  caresses.  "  I  will  never  leave  you, 
my  wife,"  he  declared;  "  no  one  shall  take  you  from 
me.  You  are  mine  and  only  Death  shall  rob  me 
of  the  dearest  treasure  on  earth.  Say  no  more,  my 
lord  Duke ;  it  is  settled.  My  wife  will  go  to  France 
with  me.  The  king  will  welcome  the  daughter  of 
his  father's  friend  as  the  bride  of  his  own  faithful 
servant." 

"If  your  mind   is  made  up  I  have  no  more 


THE  DEAREST  TREASURE    355 

to  say,"  returned  the  other,  with  a  look  of 
deep  annoyance,  "  except  that  if  the  Viscountess 
Brooke—" 

"  Pardon  me  —  the  Lady  Prudence  de  Cliffe,"  in- 
terposed a  bland  voice,  and  Lord  Beachcombe 
stepped  out  of  the  shadow,  and  taking  Prue's 
hand,  pressed  a  respectful  salute  upon  it.  "  Per- 
mit me,  Captain,  to  congratulate  you  on  your  mar- 
riage and  to  welcome  your  fair  bride  into  the  family 
of  which  I  am  the  head.  I  had  reason,  dear  Lady 
Prue,  to  fear  that  you  might  be  molested  on  your 
journey,  so  took  the  liberty  of  following  Sir  Geof- 
frey's carriage,  to  be  at  hand  in  case  the  road  to 
Tunbridge  might  lead  to  —  just  such  a  breakdown 
as  you  suffered  a  while  ago,  and  just  such  a  ro- 
mantic rescue  as  our  gallant  friend  had  prepared 
for  you.  I  rejoice  that  I  arrived  in  time  to  witness 
the  reunion  of  husband  and  wife  —  such  a  delight- 
ful surprise  for  all  of  us !  —  and  to  wish  them  a 
happy  future  —  beyond  the  sea !  " 

At  the  approach  of  Lord  Beachcombe,  the  duke 
had  pulled  his  hat  lower  over  his  face  and  drawn 
his  mantle  more  closely  about  him.  With  a  sign  to 
Robin,  he  glided  away  among  the  trees,  and  only 
the  sound  of  hoof-beats  on  the  road  marked  his 
retreat.  Percival,  who  had  been  too  much  en- 
grossed in  hunting  out  a  water-tight  boat  to  take 
notice  of  what  was  passing  within  a  few  yards  of 
him,  now  approached,  but  stopped  short  at  the  sight 
of  so  many  unexpected  figures. 

"  This  is  my  wife,  Percival,  who  has  decided  at 
the  last  moment,  to  accompany  me  to  France,"  said 


356       THE  IMPRUDENCE  OF  PRUE 

Robin.  "  Is  there  room  for  her  in  that  boat  or 
shall  we  need  a  bigger  one  ?  " 

"  Plenty  of  room,"  cried  Percival,  taking  in  the 
scene  with  eyes  bulging  with  bewilderment.  "  But, 
Lady  Prudence !  'tis  impossible  for  you  to  brave  t^ie 
night  in  an  open  boat  and  the  perils  of  crossing 
the  Channel  in  a  fishing  smack !  " 

"  Why,  there  'tis!  "  she  laughed,  with  saucy  con- 
fidence; "if  'twere  possible,  'twould  scarcely  be 
worth  the  doing!  Steve,  will  you  help  Sir  Geof- 
frey's varlets  carry  my  valises  on  board?  Within 
the  carriage  you  will  find  my  jewel-box  and  other 
trifles!  "Pis  not  much  in  the  way  of  wedding- 
equipage  for  a  court-lady,  but  'tis  more  than  I  had 
when  I  was  waylaid  on  Bleakmoor  and  the  high- 
wayman could  find  nothing  —  at  least,  nothing  port- 
able —  to  rob  me  of,"  and  she  threw  Robin  a  glance 
of  irresistible  drollery. 

"  This  will  indeed  be  a  racy  dish  of  scandal  for 
your  friends,  madam,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  from  the 
inn-door. 

"  It  will  lose  none  of  its  spice  in  passing 
through  your  hands,  Sir  Geoffrey,"  she  retorted, 
with  asperity.  "  Pray  do  not  forget  to  give  your- 
self full  credit  for  your  share  in  the  escapade." 

"  I  will  take  good  care  of  your  reputation,  Lady 
Prudence,  and  also  of  Sir  Geoffrey's,"  interposed 
Beachcombe.  At  his  voice,  Sir  Geoffrey  started 
and  turned  livid. 

"'Od's  Death!"  he  exclaimed.  "What  brings 
you  here  of  all  men?  " 

"  Why,  just  a  trifling  wager ;  I  think  you'll  own 


THE  DEAREST  TREASURE    357 

I've  won  it  fairly !  "  returned  the  earl,  as  Sir  Geof- 
frey strode  away,  and  calling  to  his  men  with 
curses,  flung  himself  into  his  carriage  and  drove 
off  at  a  gallop.  Lord  Beachcombe,  scarcely  wait- 
ing to  press  a  hurried  kiss  on  Prue's  hand  and 
wish  her  long  life  and  happiness,  followed  him  with 
no  less  speed. 

"  The  sail  is  hoisted  and  the  baggage  aboard," 
Steve  announced.  "  Will  it  please  your  ladyship  to 
hasten;  we  should  be  halfway  to  Rochester  by 
now." 

Robin  carried  his  bride  over  the  rough  causeway 
and  made  her  as  comfortable  as  circumstances 
would  permit,  in  the  stern  of  the  boat.  With  his 
ample  cloak  he  covered  her  from  the  chill  night 
air,  and  taking  his  place  beside  her,  gave  the  word 
to  push  off. 

Steve  guided  the  boat  into  mid-stream,  then  set 
himself  to  steer  by  the  sail  that  pulled  and  strained 
from  the  mast  under  a  favoring  wind.  Percival, 
in  the  bow,  kept  a  keen  watch  for  any  sign  of  dan- 
ger to  his  precious  freight,  and  behind,  in  the  dark- 
ness, Prue  lay  in  the  arms  of  her  lover-husband. 


THE   END 


°°0115566 


